Trapped in a Nightmare I
by Ph0enixS0ng
Summary: Part 1/2. 6 long years after their island rescue, Jack and Ralph find themselves trapped in each other's lives once more. Something special reawakens from their reunion and what began as a simple bet may just turn into something more... Ralph/Jack/OC
1. Unexpected Confrontations

**Title: **_Trapped in a Nightmare_

**Author:** _Azn Eyes_

**Rated:**R

**Genre:**Humour Romance

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Flies, William Golding

**Summary:**6 long years after their island rescue, Jack & Ralph find themselves trapped in each other's lives once more. Something special reawakens from their reunion & what began as a simple bet just may turn into something more… Ralph-Jack-OC slash.

**Author's Note:** I've read the book and seen both movies, but I don't remember much, so I just mixed some stuff together from all three. I don't recall if Ralph's surname was mentioned, so I just made one up. Also, this story takes place in the present time, not in the fifties.

**(01) Unexpected Confrontations**

_The fair-haired youngster gasped direly for breath as he stumbled through the foliage. His side was pained with the beginnings of a cramp and his lungs were screaming out in need of oxygen. He ran onwards, however, never stopping, for stopping may mean the end of his life! He stumbled frantically away from the dreaded whistles of the Hunters—the whistle of death, to his ears. The cloak of black smoke grew higher, denser; the flames danced mockingly around him, barring his last escape route._

_'No!' the child cried out miserably when he realized that he was trapped. He attempted to avoid the burning flames licking his body, but it soon became clear to him that this was a battle he could not win. The boy crumbled to the ground, sobbing, as he succumbed to the slow, painful death. He was being burned alive . . . _

-

Ralph woke with a start and instinctively groped his body to make sure that it was all there. He sighed with relief when he realized that it had all just been yet another nightmare, directly linked to those last horrible days on the island. Although he hadn't exactly been cremated alive whilst on the island, that and such similar dreams of death have constantly haunted him for nigh of six years. It was unexplainable as to why, and it tended to give him these psychotically queer reactions.

Then again, this particular nightmare may have been caused by anxiety, for he was to go to a new school the very next day. His first day at a new school. Again. Ralph loathed the fact that his father's job forced them to move so much, though his father tried to make up for it by sending Ralph to only the best private schools the country had to offer. But Ralph would trade the "glories" of all those best academies to just go to and stay at a public school, to just be an ordinary kid.

Brushing the light fringe from his eyes, Ralph sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, wondering what the morrow would bring. New friends. Again. New teachers. Again. New people to meet. Again. Yup, this school was going to be just like all the others—proper etiquette, respectful, rule obliging, and just plain boring!

The boy sighed and tried to think of something else. Mistake! The terrible, terrible memories of the island swiftly flowed back to his mind's eye . . .

The plane crash.

The separation of the group.

Simon's death.

The beast that wasn't a beast.

Piggy's death.

The fire.

"Things have changed so much since then," he mused in relief, resting his chin on a knee. He recalled how happy he had been when they had finally been rescued; how a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders . . . "And we all lived happily ever after," Ralph reflected, "just like in fairy tales."

He remembered how heavenly the island was at first, how perfect . . . or so they thought. Then all that they believed was good crumbled away into nothingness, leaving behind but traces of its former existence.

Simon was (in a way) the gluey stuff that held the group together. He was the kind-hearted one, but in the end, where did that lead him? To death's very door! Yes, Ralph remembered it all; how the Hunters had murdered Simon; how the boy's corpse had been bathed with moonlight before being washed into the sea; how even the stars seemed to mourn the death of the beloved child, because that's all he was—a child. They all were, but their innocence was robbed from them by their need to survive. Simon, however, was still innocent when he died, and his body was returned from whence it came.

"Simon didn't deserve to die. Piggy didn't deserve to die. None of them deserved to die." Ralph smiled sadly, bitterly. "But they did."

Yes, like a fairy tale, their paradise, too, had come to an end.

"Then what comes after 'happily ever after'?"

-

Gazing into a mirror, Jack brusquely flipped the collar of his white shirt and donned his coat. It was a crisp, chilly winter morning, and the bitter winds bit into his face the moment the teen stepped out the door. Trembling violently from the cold, he grabbed a scarf from a nearby hook before slamming the door closed.

'Yo, Jack! Where the bloody hell are ya going?' yelled a drunken voice from inside.

'School, Dad,' he replied, rolling his eyes. 'Where I go practically every day!'

'When will you be home?'

'Later,' he shouted back shortly. He wrapped the scarf tightly around his neck and proceeded down the street. He was lucky to have no books to carry, for it left his hands free . . . er, somewhat—they were jammed into the wool-lined pockets of his too-small jacket.

Jack jogged to the end of the street and waited for his school bus, which arrived a few minutes later. After climbing aboard and muttering a brisk "g'mornin'" to the driver, he made his way to the back of the bus; past the remaining empty seats, past all the other boys giving him weird looks; he went to the very back, to "his" seat. There was only one problem: someone was already sitting there!

'Er . . . Excuse me, you're in my seat,' Jack said, drawing the other's attention from the window. The boy looked up at him with wide eyes, wide beautiful eyes of stony black.

"Those eyes . . ." Jack thought. "I know those eyes. Could it be . . .?"

'Hello, Jack,' the teen greeted solemnly. 'I didn't know that you went to this school.'

'Ralph,' the other replied in turn, though through tightly gritted teeth. 'As a matter of fact, I didn't know you went here either. Now, get out of my seat!'

'Your seat?' Ralph scoffed. 'Since when is this your seat? I don't see your name on it anywhere!'

'Oh yeah? Look behind you.'

Ralph twisted around to look at the worn leather seat cover. In the bottom, right-hand corner, something was written in smudged pen ink. Squinting, he realized that it said: "Jack Merridew".

'See?'

'Whatever,' Ralph muttered, shrugging. He stood up and went to the front. This was no easy task, for the bus was in full motion, swaying and leaping from potholes and such.

Jack watched the other's retreating form to make sure he wouldn't come back. Then he slumped into his seat, sighing—it was not in content, however. Ralph's reaction had unnerved him somewhat. When he had last seen the other teen—no, boy, for it had been almost six years since they had last seen each other and they had both been "boys" then—Ralph was just as childish, if not more so, as he was. The "past" Ralph wouldn't have just walked away. He would have fought Jack for the seat for all he was worth, if for pride if not anything else (even though it was a rather stupid thing to do). This "new" Ralph just walked away as if it was nothing.

Suddenly, Jack felt somewhat foolish for making such a fuss. Who cares if someone else sat in the seat? What's the difference? The new Ralph realized that, which was probably why he just walked away. He was so . . . mature now, especially in such matters as this. Jack raked a hand through his hair, which was unruly from the wind. That feeling of inferiority returned to him, inferiority simply caused by the other's suave indifference. He had last felt it that last time he saw Ralph, for Ralph was the only one who could make him feel this way. And he last saw Ralph . . .

'The day we were rescued from island,' Jack murmured aloud. Frowning slightly at the memory, he looked out the window and watched the houses flash by in a blur, much like the emotions running through his head. Jack had hardly even thought about the island after they were rescued. He didn't give a shit what happened back there, or how the other boys were doing . . . He only cared about the here and now.

'Everything seems to lead back to that fucking island!' he muttered, disgruntled.

He glanced out the window at the blurred trees now passing by—looking, but not really seeing. Despite how much he hated the kid, Jack just couldn't seem to get his mind off of Ralph. It actually came as a relief to him when the bus pulled into the school's driveway some ten minutes later, and he had his friends to distract him.

'Hey, Jack,' Lee greeted him happily the moment Jack had stepped down from the bus.

'Hey,' Jack replied; he punched his friend lightly on the shoulder.

'Anything the matter?' Fred asked. 'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

"Close enough," murmured Jack's subconscious mind, which he ignored.

'Oh, nothing's wrong,' he replied quickly.

'Are you sure? Because you're really pale.'

"Damn! Why does Fred always have to be so fucking 'perceptive'?"

'Nah, I'm just . . . tired, that's all,' Jack lied.

'Oh, all right then,' Fred responded, though he did not appear happy with his friend's answer.

'Really, Fred, I'm fine!'

'Of course you are,' Terry said, laying a meaty, muscular arm on Jack's shoulder. 'You do remember what today is, don't you, mate?'

'Er . . .'

'Today's the day we begin wrestling in gym class!' the larger teen replied before Jack could form an answer in his scattered state of mind.

'Oh, yeah, I knew that.'

'Don't worry about it, old boy. You'll do fine,' John said, 'though probably not as good as our champ here.' He indicated Terry's towering form; the latter grinned smugly.

'Yeah,' Jack agreed absentmindedly.

'Aw, you'll do okay for yourself, Jack,' Lee said. 'You could pull one over any kid, any day. And by the looks of it, that one, especially.' When he said that, he pointed out the retreating back of a nervous-looking boy.

Jack froze.

'Y-you mean Ralph?' he stuttered.

'Ralph? Is that the git's name?' Lee looked confused. 'Well, yes, then. You could pull one over that Ralph guy any day.'

Jack smiled, remembering the last time he had fought with Ralph. The competition had been almost equal. Almost. By the end of it, Ralph had definitely come off as the worst, though scarcely. It had been corroding Jack's insides to know that he almost lost to Ralph . . . Ralph! The thought was laughable. Seeing the teen again brought Jack the opportunity he had wanted for a long time—the chance to finally beat Ralph, with a big margin of difference to brag about. He laughed inwardly: an evil, piercing laugh (not that anyone could hear it, though).

"Well," he thought, "you had best be ready Ralph. History is about to repeat itself, but in my favour this time."

-

Ralph miserably made his way to his homeroom class, dragging his bag along behind him. He glanced at his wristwatch, realizing he was pretty late, considering school had started at 8:00, because some stupid teenagers had told him that Room 101A was in the basement when, in truth, the academy didn't even have a basement! Ralph had spent all of ten minutes wandering frantically around the first floor looking for any staircases that may lead to this supposed "basement". Eventually, however, he found his way into the main office and instead asked the secretary where his class was.

Now that's where Ralph was heading. His (real) homeroom, which was on the second floor of the building, for the classroom setup was completely messed up! Unlike other normal schools he's been to, where 000's are in the basement, 100's are on the first floor, 200's are on the second floor, 300's are on the third floor and so on, this school was just a shit hole.

"Though a very nice one," he mused, gazing around at his handsomely polished surroundings.

Having finally located the right room, Ralph tentatively knocked on the door, which soon swung open to admit him.

-

Although it was still early in the morning and the class should have been wide awake after having had a full night's sleep behind them, Jack's teacher (Mr. Piddy) always found a way to make the class sleep before 8:30 with his lengthy mathematical lectures.

'Then after you have added the squared amounts of both numbers, you . . . That's right, Mr. Johnston! You have to find the square root of . . .'

Jack's weighted eyelids finally closed over his eyes.

Zzz . . .

A sharp knock on the classroom door snapped the teen out of his sleeping reverie. He forced his eyes open in time to see Mr. Piddy open the door. After a brief discussion with the person who knocked, he stepped back to admit the other into the classroom. Then he turned back to his class, announcing, 'We have a new student, class. I'd like you all to meet Mr. Ralph Macpherson. He has just recently transferred to our grand academy. Let us all give a nice round of applause to welcome him.'

The students lazily clapped their hands together, all feeling extremely foolish.

Jack did a double take. Ralph was in his homeroom! He smiled vengefully, expecting hours upon hours together with his old nemesis. This was, perhaps, the opportunity he had been waiting for.

'Yes, well . . .' Mr. Piddy seemed somewhat disappointed and embarrassed by the lack of enthusiasm. 'You may go sit in the empty seat beside Mr. Merridew over there,' he uttered. 'Jack, put up your hand to show Ralph where you are.'

'Don't trouble yourself, sir,' Ralph said quickly, with a hint of disbelief in his tone. 'I already know who Jack is.'

'Oh, very well then.' Mr. Piddy clapped his hands together and made his way to the front of the room. 'By the way, Ralph, if you have any trouble in my class, do not hesitate to ask for help.'

'I will, sir,' he replied automatically, slumping into his seat and shrugging off his coat and bag.

'Good. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. After you find the square root, you have to . . .'

'Hello, Ralph,' Jack whispered menacingly.

'Jack,' the other responded indifferently, gazing straight ahead.

'It may interest you to know that I have been awaiting this for quite a while now.'

'Awaiting what?'

'Seeing you again.' In a flourish, Jack was leaning across the aisle to speak to Ralph. He lowered his voice dangerously. 'I have wanted this for a long time, Ralph—to have my revenge!'

'Oh, really? I haven't given you a second thought since we were rescued,' Ralph replied, not once looking in the other's direction.

Infuriated, Jack suddenly grabbed the teen's jaw and forced their eyes to meet; Ralph tried to shake off the offending hand, but the blunt nails were digging painfully into his skin.

'You had better watch out, Ralph,' Jack warned, before he released the boy's face and settled himself back into his seat.

-

After the other had finally let him go, Ralph rubbed his jaw, trying to soothe the worried flesh. He glared evilly at the person across from him. Seeing Jack like that after all those years, he realized that someone had yet to kick his ass for being so conceited.

"No, Jack," he thought darkly, "it's you who has to watch out."

-

It came as a great relief to Ralph when the bell rang an hour or so later, signaling the soon-to-be start of second period. Stuffing his pile of papers into his bag and making a grab for his coat, he filed out with the rest of the class and into the crowded corridors of the school. Not wanting to be late for his next class, he tapped the closest person on the shoulder.

'Yes?' inquired the other.

'I was wondering . . .might you be kind enough to tell me where Room 213 is?' Ralph stammered.

'No, I'm sorry, mate, but I can't help you,' the boy replied. 'I'm new here as well.'

'Really?'

The teen nodded.

'I've only just come, like, yesterday. The school is quite large—I'm sure you've noticed, mate—so I haven't really had the time to look around for a bit. But honestly! The banners and such on the wall are quite cute, don't you think? Everything seems to match one way or another.'

Ralph smiled, wondering if this guy was secretly a female; the way he talked was . . . like a valley girl, really—an Australian valley girl, because he kept using the word "mate".

'So, have you got a name then, kid?' the other asked.

'It's Ralph. And you are . . .?'

'Raymond Parker, but you can just call me "Ray"—everyone does'

Ralph snickered inwardly, for "Ray" sounded a good deal like "gay"; Ray, thankfully oblivious to his thoughts, remained indifferent.

'Well, we've got to get around to class now. So, I guess I'll see you later then, Ralph.' He grinned heartily.

'Yeah, I'll see you around!'

-

Jack shoved his way through the mass of people, trying to make it to class on time. If he were ever late again, his teacher would give him another detention! Then his mother would punish him (again!) and he would be grounded for a month (again!). Yeah, history seemed to repeat itself a lot. Speaking of which . . .

'Ah, made it!' he sighed in relief, hurrying into his history classroom and taking his usual seat by the window.

'Good morning, Mr. Merridew,' Miss Mitch greeted him stiffly.

"Hmph," Jack thought bitterly, "Miss Bitch is more like it. No wonder she isn't married."

Despite his cynical reflections, he forced a smile on his face.

'And a very good morning to you, miss,' he said sweetly. 'I feel absolutely terrible for being late for history class so often, and I do hope you'll forgive me for such tardiness—it was foolish behaviour on my behalf and I swear it will never happen again.'

Miss Mitch actually had the grace to smile.

'Well, it was in the past, after all,' she said. 'I'm glad you're here on time today. Just be sure you aren't late again.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

In a motherly fashion, she pinched his cheek before strolling away.

'What the hell was that all about?' Terry asked, laughing as he settled into the seat beside Jack.

'Shut up, you,' Jack snapped, rubbing his cheek. 'I'm surprised you're on time, Terry. What happened? You got let out early because the chem. lab blew up again? Is that it?'

'Maybe,' his friend replied slyly. 'But I swear to you, Mr. Merridew,' he said in a mock imitation of Jack, 'it will never, ever happen again! I felt absolutely terrible for mixing those chemicals together, even after Mr. Laurel had specifically told me not to. I just wanted to see what would happen.'

'Did you really, though?' Jack questioned, ignoring the idiotic impersonation of himself.

'Did I what?'

'Blow up the chemistry lab . . . er . . . again.'

'Well, duh!' Terry responded with the tone of 2+24.

Jack sighed.

'This is what? The fifth time this month?'

'Seventh, according to Mr. Laurel.' Terry screwed up his face and began to imitate the chemistry teacher. 'If you blow up this lab one more time, I will personally see to it that you are expelled!'

'Did he really say that?'

'Yeah.' Terry shrugged. 'Not like I haven't heard that threat a bajillion times before, though.'

Jack would really have like to tell his friend that a "bajillion" wasn't a real number, but John suddenly appeared and he lost his chance.

'Maybe you should take his threat seriously this time, Terry,' the newcomer said as he took his seat. 'He seemed pretty ticked.'

'Yeah, you can't really fail chem. again!' Jack pointed out. 'Your parents will have a fit!'

'Ah, let them!' Terry shrugged again. 'I didn't want to come to this stupid school in the first place—this stupid school with all these stupid rules and stupid teachers. Like, uniform! Hello! Who cares what the fuck we wear!'

Jack rolled his eyes, only half-listening to his friend's rants, which he had heard only a million times before.

That's what it had always been like for Terry, though. He had always been the "tough guy" of the group, who blamed his parents for everything—from his negative behaviour towards school to the size of his overly large feet (okay, so that _was _their fault, but . . .). In Jack's opinion, his biceps more than made up for his slow mind; they were the only thing Terry really prided himself in.

John on the other hand . . . Well, let's just say John was different from the rest of the group. He was always the geeky, over-achieving, brainy type. Oddly enough, the others still thought him "cool" enough to join their little gang, and it wasn't just because they could copy their homework off of him. He was just . . . cool. However, John was of much smaller stature than Terry and thick-rimmed, bottle-cap glasses framed his eyes, making him look very much like a mutated insect.

Jack smiled as he thought up a description of himself and how he fit into their gang. He had made a reputation for himself at the school—that he was able to get any guy he wanted within one week! (If it was a unisex school, he would have bet his barracks that he could get any girl or guy. But alas, he went to an all-boy school.) However, this also gave him the labels "slut", "whore", "player", and other such vulgar names, but Jack couldn't care less. Nor, it seemed, could the other boys; they couldn't get enough of him! Once he decided that he was going to have them, they were his (but only for as long as Jack wanted them). Such bias, really, but for the few weeks that they went out, the other boys were treated like kings! This was because his reputation also allowed Jack to earn some major bucks, which he (obviously) spent on his weekly honey. More than once, his friends have placed a large bet that he wouldn't be able to get the one he wanted; he proved them wrong every time and, thus, the dough was gained.

The piercing school bell rang, signaling the start of class.

'Okay, class, settle down,' Miss Mitch said, clapping her hands.

No response.

'You can sit down now, class,' she repeated.

Still, no one paid her any heed.

'I said SHUT UP!' the teacher screamed, slamming a metre stick onto the nearest desk and creating a loud slapping noise.

Shocked, the class settled into their seats.

'Ahem, please take out your textbooks and turn to page 341,' Miss Mitch said sweetly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Then again, her little outbursts _were_ ordinary because they happened almost every day! She would tell the class to sit down, shut up . . . They wouldn't listen . . . She'd lose her temper . . . yada, yada, yada.

'Now, continuing where we left off yesterday—Britain granted Canada its request for a constitution, which was introduced . . .'

Half-listening to the teacher's (now-)monotone voice, Jack retrieved his book from his bag . . . or tried to anyway. Leaning forward, he frantically searched his bag for his history book. Eventually coming to the realization that it wasn't there, he sighed irritably and raised his hand.

'Yes, Mr. Merridew?' Miss Mitch asked in a restrained tone, obviously annoyed that he had interrupted her lesson.

'I'm sorry, ma'am, but I forgot my textbook in my urgency to get to class on time,' he said with a straight face; Terry and John smirked.

'Very well, you may go retrieve it.'

'Thank you, miss.'

Jack immediately jumped from his seat and practically fled across the room, taking the time to accidentally-on-purpose knock the textbook off the front-most desk with a loud slam! Scowling, Patrick (the class brainer, teacher's pet, etc.) bent down to reclaim his book as he readjusted his polished glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Jack smiled broadly and quickly left the classroom before Miss Bitch could punish him again. He took his time roaming the halls, making his way to his locker; he wasn't in any real hurry to return to his history class. The teen glanced into the other classes, wondering which one Ralph was in.

"Why are you thinking about him?" scolded his conscience. "Stop thinking about him, unless you're thinking about knocking him out senseless!"

Jack's pace increased considerably (as if to block out the voice with the growing wind resistance caused by his walking pace) and he rounded a corner.

"Why are you still thinking about him! STOP!"

He was in such a rush that he didn't see the other kid until it was too late! With an "oof"-like grunt, he bumped into the other, almost knocking him to the ground. Almost. The teen didn't fall, but his books were knocked clean from his hands and scattered across the corridor floor.

'Sorry, chap,' the other guy said, stumbling. 'Didn't see where I was going there.'

'Um . . . it's all right,' Jack replied, confused, wondering, "Shouldn't _I _be the once apologizing?" For a moment, he watched the kid retrieve his books before leaning down to help him.

'Thanks, mate,' the boy said. 'Yeah, well, I'm sorry for bumping into you. I was just thinking about some . . . things.'

'What kinds of things?' Jack asked, immediately interested.

'Oh, just some things about a guy I met earlier,' was the simple reply, without a hint of modesty.

Jack gave his companion a once-over, noticing how attractive the other was . . . _very_ attractive.

'Really? You met a guy?' he said distractedly, hoping his thoughts didn't betray him. This guy was obviously new. Jack would have noticed a sexy face like his. He has a sort of "hottie" radar.

'Yeah,' the other said. 'He was really hot, too.'

'What did he look like?' Jack questioned casually.

'Oh, he had dark hair and tanned skin. Broad shoulders . . . And his eyes . . . Oh my! His eyes were dark, so dark they look like a still, black lake reflecting the clear darkness of night.'

The teen seemed lost in the mere memory and Jack wondered who could have such an impact on him. Not anyone _he_ knew, surely. The only guy he knew that could make others feel that way was . . . well . . . _him_!

'No, wait,' the other teen said. 'His eyes were more like a mirror, reflecting his true character . . . his heart . . . his soul . . .'

'Really? This one must be quite a catch.'

'He is.' The boy glanced furtively at Jack and cleared his throat. 'Why? Thinking of taking him away from me, mate?'

'Maybe,' Jack responded smoothly.

The other laughed.

'You wish.' He balanced his books on one arm and extended his hand to Jack in a business-like fashion. 'So are you willing to place a bet on that?'

Jack eyed the hand with growing confidence, knowing for sure that he'll be able to win over this "mystery" guy, even with Mr. Pretty-Boy here to contend with.

'You've got a deal, kid.' He shook hands with his acquaintance. 'What's the time limit?'

The other seemed deep in thought for a while as he considered it.

'Two weeks,' he finally replied.

'What? You don't think you could do it in one?'

'No. I just thought _you _might need the extra time.'

Jack crossed his arms.

'I happen to have a reputation for getting _any_ guy within one week, so why would you think otherwise?'

The teen shrugged.

'I didn't know you had that reputation.' He shrugged again. 'Fine. It'll just be the one week then.'

'Yeah, starting today and ending on Tuesday next week.'

'Then what do I get if I win?'

'The guy, for one,' Jack replied. 'Plus . . . say, fifty bucks.' With all the money he saved up from winning bets, fifty bucks was nothing to him. (But you'd think he'd spend that money on purchasing a decent jacket, but he didn't really give a shit about that.)

'Okay, and if you win, the same goes for you . . . and you get to keep your reputation intact.'

'Fair enough. It's a deal!' Jack responded, smirking.

The other smiled and quickly walked away with his mound of books.

'Wait!' Jack called after the departing back. 'You didn't tell me his name!'

'It's _Ralph_!'


	2. Let the Games Begin

**(02) Let the Games Begin . . .  
**  
Ralph sighed in relief when the lunch bell rang. He had scarcely been able to endure the constant ramblings of his visual arts teacher, Mr. Lei, who spoke more of his family life than he did of actual art. Ralph shuffled his papers into a would-be neat pile and crammed them into his bag, eager to get something to eat. He draped his jacket over his arm and was halfway out of the classroom before he realized that he didn't have a locker to keep his stuff in. Sighing again, he made his way to the main office to register for one.

'Back again, Mr. Macpherson?' the secretary asked, smiling.

Ralph nodded awkwardly.

'How may I help you?' the woman asked him kindly.

'Well . . . it's just that . . . I need a locker to put my things in,' he stammered, shifting his coat to his other arm.

Her face fell.

'Oh, I'm terribly sorry,' she replied. 'There are no lockers left. The boys have already taken to sharing them by now, at least until the school board can order more.'

'Oh, okay then.'

'Might you be able to find a buddy to share with?' She spoke as if he was still a young child in grade school looking for a partner to carve pumpkins with.

Ralph shrugged.

'No, ma'am, but it's all right. I can haul my stuff around.'

She clucked her tongue.

'Are you certain? I'm sure there are many boys out there who will share with you. Besides, you wouldn't really want to carry around books for all your eight subjects if you could help it, would you?'

'No, really, ma'am, it's okay. I'll just—'

'There you are, Ralph,' interrupted a sudden voice. 'I've been looking all over for you!'

Ralph groaned as Jack strolled into the room.

'Good afternoon, Mr. Merridew,' the secretary greeted.

'Hello, Mrs. Kenningburg,' Jack replied. Then he turned to Ralph. 'Why are you in here? You're not in trouble, are you?'

'As a matter of fact,' Mrs. Kenningburg began before the other could reply, 'Mr. Macpherson is here to register for a locker. But as I told him, there are none to be had . . . .Say, I have an idea! Why don't you share your locker with him, Mr. Merridew!'

'Oh, no!' Ralph responded instinctively, hoping his voice didn't betray his agitation at the mere thought. 'I mean, I just couldn't share a locker with Jack because . . . because I don't want to invade his privacy! I would not want to trouble him.'

'Nonsense!'

Ralph was surprised, for it had been Jack who said that.

'You won't trouble me at all,' Jack claimed. 'Besides, a lot of the other students are sharing, why not us?'

'I think Mr. Merridew has made a fair point there,' the secretary said.

Ralph would so have like to tell the woman of his past dealings with Jack and the vengeance that the other clearly sought upon him, but such were the circumstances that he didn't think it would be a good idea.

'Go toddle off now,' Mrs. Kenningburg said. 'Go along to your locker, both of you!' She eyed Ralph pointedly.

'Yes, ma'am,' Ralph murmured; he followed Jack out of the room, barely restraining himself from strangling the other teen. 'What did you do that for!' he demanded once they were out of earshot from the office.

'I'm sorry!' Jack replied. 'I thought I was doing you a favour!'

'A favour? I don't want, nor need, any favours from you!' Ralph spat. 'Why'd you do it? So you can move out and put a dead fish in with my stuff later on? Just this morning, you were giving me all this shit about revenge! Now you want to help me!' He stopped to take a breath, finding it odd that Jack had just let him ramble on and on about . . . crap, really. Ralph didn't really mean half the things he said, because he did need Jack's help. He just found it suspicious that Jack was so eager to help him now, and—though he was loathe to confess it—he was too proud to admit his need for help, especially Jack's. He didn't want to feel as if he owed his enemy something.

'Can't a guy just help his old mate?' Jack said innocently.

'Ha!' Ralph scoffed. 'Old mate? You think we're "old mates"? Nuh-uh, no, no way!' He laughed.

Jack stuffed his hands in his back pockets.

'Well, if you ever change your mind, the locker is on the second floor. Number 264—the combination is 16-45-39.'

Ralph raised his chin in what he thought to be a superior pose.

'Keep your locker, keep your offer . . . I'm better off on my own.' With that said, he turned on his heel and left, knowing he was throwing away his only offer of help.

'Um . . . the caf is that way!' Jack said, inclining his head slightly to indicate a hallway going in the opposite direction.

Ralph blushed and doubled back.

'I . . . uh, I knew that!'

-

Jack watched the other's departing back, wishing he had never made the bet with that other kid. The notion of him getting Ralph seemed ridiculous! There was no way the other would even pretend to be his, let alone concede completely. The teen was just impossible! Jack felt like kicking himself for getting into this mess.

"Fuck me and my damn cockiness!" he scolded himself. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

How the hell was he going to get out of this mess!

Maybe he could just find that kid and say he changed his mind about the whole thing. He wouldn't really lose anything, because calling off the bet wouldn't be counted as "losing". Well, no, that wasn't true. That guy would probably tell everyone about Jack's cowardice, and he would lose his pride, his dignity, his reputation! He groaned at the thought. Never again would another guy at this school go out with him. He wouldn't be known as the "big-shot" anymore. If he lost, his friends would probably abandon him, and Ralph . . . he didn't even want to think about Ralph, because whenever he did, his stomach hurt knowing he would never get the teen. Ralph would probably just laugh at him, knowing he can control Jack's fate.

Jack's parents would probably desert him for shaming them so. And he'd get kicked out of school because he had been unable to pay the tuition fees. The teen would become a hobo, begging people for money to buy food, and Ralph would probably toss him a few pennies out of pity. Then he'd eventually die one cold winter morning, and wild dogs would come and eat at his rotting corpse. Then they would die from the sheer bitterness of his body, and . . .

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he chided his mind, beating his forehead with the heel of his hand. His imagination was soaring again. That stuff wouldn't happen just because he lost one bet, would it? Wouldn't it?

Jack sighed.

'My reputation is at stake,' he reminded himself. 'I have to win.'

-

Ralph pushed the cafeteria doors open and was immediately taken back by the loud, boisterous chatter of his fellow students. He shook his head somewhat to snap himself out of his reverie. Then he started wandering between the tables, looking for a seat.

'Hey, Ralph! Over here!' a voice called out.

A sigh of relief escaped Ralph's lips when he realized that the speaker had been none other than Ray, who was waving him over from a nearby table.

'Come on over, Ralph!' Ray shouted above the din. 'There's plenty of room over here.'

Ralph quickly made his way over to his (only) friend.

'Hey,' he greeted. 'Boy, am I glad to see you.'

'Yeah, glad to see you too,' Ray replied. 'Sit down then, mate.' He indicated the empty seat on his right.

Ralph slumped into the chair and draped his coat on the back of it.

'How has your day been so far?' he asked.

'So-so,' Ray responded. 'Met a few people.'

'Oh, really?' Ralph said. 'I—'

'Ralph!' someone interrupted in a loud voice. The teen unfortunately recognized the voice of the once who called him.

'What, Jack?' he demanded. 'Why won't you just leave me alone?'

Jack looked past him for a moment and set his eyes upon Ray.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, virtually ignoring Ralph.

'Having lunch,' Ray replied casually.

'Um . . . have I missed something here?' Ralph inquired. 'You two know each other?'

'We've met,' Jack said shortly, still looking at the other. Then his gaze returned to the one he had called. 'Listen, I just wanted to know if you wanted to . . . take up on my offer.'

Ray suddenly spilled his can of pop, drenching the polished wooden surface of the table.

'Oh, sorry there, mate,' he said, eyeing Ralph's drenched sleeve, but the latter seemed not to notice.

'I already told you, Jack,' he said, 'I do not want any favours from you.'

Now Ray choked on his sandwich, but Ralph was still indifferent towards him.

'Are you sure?' Jack leaned forward and lowered his voice so only Ralph could hear. 'Just think of it as a temporary truce.'

'And what happens when the truce is over?' Ralph demanded, not bothering to keep his voice low. More than a few heads turned his way. 'Will you even tell me? Or are you just going to think up some sick plot to get me back for what happened all those years ago!'

Jack seemed ready to explode, but he kept his cool.

'Well,' he said through gritted teeth, 'the offer will still be open, Ralph, if you ever change your mind.'

Ralph glared at Jack's back when the other had finally turned to leave.

'What was that all about?' Ray questioned immediately.

'Oh, nothing,' Ralph said. 'I just . . .'

'What "favours"? I know we just met, mate, but I'd at least think you'd have the decency to tell me if you were shagging another guy.'

'Yeah, I suppose I . . . eurgh, WHAT!' Ralph practically screamed. 'I am not "shagging another guy".

'Well, it's an all-boy school and there are some attractive guys hanging about . . . put two and two together, mate.'

Ralph thought Ray had a point there. There were some rather attractive—

"What are you thinking!" chided his conscience, but uncertainty made him ask, 'Even if I was, what's it to you, Ray?'

'If I'd known you'd been dallying with another guy, I would have left you alone,' Ray said, but Ralph had no idea what Ray meant by "leaving him alone". 'Especially if you were fucking that guy over there.' He indicated Jack, who was arguing heatedly with his friends. 'No offense or anything—because it's clear to me now that you don't like him—but you two sounded like an old married couple. Quite cute really.'

'Cute?' Ralph felt like he was going to be sick.

'You all right there, mate? You look a trifle pale.'

-

'What the hell was that?' Lee asked Jack the moment his friend had joined them.

'Jackie boy over here seems to have chosen his newest infatuation,' John said.

'Er . . . yes,' Jack replied, thinking it would be better if that's what his friends believed. 'But you call me "Jackie boy" again, John, and you're in for a sound slapping, you hear?'

'Yeah, promises!'

Terry pulled Jack into a headlock and gave him a noogie.

'That's my boy. Go fuck that shit!'

'Say, Jack,' Lee said slowly, 'are you willing to place a bet on that?'

'I already have,' Jack responded automatically—he felt like slapping himself for saying that! He hadn't meant to.

'Oh, really? With who?'

'None of your business,' Jack replied, flattening his now-ruffled hair.

'Come on then,' Lee urged. 'Just one more bet for your best mate.'

Jack glared at his friend.

'Come on, Jack. Do it for your little buddy, Lee. Please? Please, please, please, please, please, please—'

'Fine!' Jack finally relented, if only to shut him up.

Lee smiled; he had always been the little gambler of their group. He always liked to place bets on the weirdest things, but he especially liked to place bets against Jack and his little infatuations. Ten times out of ten, he lost, though.

"Until now," Jack thought pessimistically. It looks like he was going to lose, so the least he could do (for himself) was ensure the stakes were low.

'Okay then, if you win, what do you want?' Lee asked.

Jack knew what he wanted, but he also knew that Lee would not be able to deliver, so he refrained from replying his heart's true desires (Lee's new big-screen television set) and instead said, 'Ten dollars.' That was less than what he had said all those other times, and Lee seemed terribly disappointed.

'That's it? Okay, fine. Then if I win, I dare you to jump into the school swimming pool buck-naked right before the swim meet.'

'But the whole school will be there!' Jack objected.

'Exactly.' An evil grin twisted Lee's features.

'Aw, come on, Lee, that's not fair,' Fred said.

'Shut up, Fred. Mind your own business.'

'No, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that almost everyone in the academy has already seen Jack in . . . his birthday suit.' He paused. 'Where's the fun in that?'

'You're right,' Lee said, clapping Fred on the back.

Jack's fists clenched together. He really felt like hitting Fred, who just gave him a wicked grin. Jack sighed, thinking of Fred's position in their group. Fred had always been the sensitive one. Not meaning that he got hurt easily, but that his emotions and senses were more acute than those of the others. He was so tuned-in to his surroundings and often noticed little details that the others did not (much like John). It was creepy sometimes.

So that was the gang. Jack: the slut (though he liked to think himself as the "romantic"), John: the brains, Terry: the muscles, Lee: the gambler, and Fred: the human sensory device.

"We might actually be able to make a not-so-complete person," Jack mused, but his musings were soon ended.

'So, what shall I get if I win the bet,' Lee said, scratching his chin.

'Aw, come on, Lee,' Terry said, 'take pity on the poor soul.'

'Ha!' Lee scoffed. 'Poor soul is hardly the description I would use for Jack. First of all, he's earned tons of money off of us; me, in particular. Secondly, he always wins, hence the load of winnings he's obtained. Last but not least, I just have to keep on betting with Jack until I win! I need my revenge!'

Jack was rather stricken by how much Lee's thirst for revenge mirrored his own. Did he really sound that bloodthirsty?

'Lighten up, Lee,' Fred said. 'We're all mates here. Besides, Jack only bet ten bucks. What's ten bucks to you?'

'Everything when it comes to Jack,' Lee muttered. 'But . . . wait a minute! You're right!'

'I am?' Fred asked, clearly confused.

'Jack only bet ten bucks—and why should he if he always wins?' Lee spun around to face Jack. 'What? You think you're going to lose this one, Jack? Is this Ralph character a bit beyond your reach?'

'That's none of your business,' Jack spat.

'Take it easy, Lee,' John squeaked. 'Of course Jack's going to win. He always does! Ain't that right, Jackie boy?'

Jack turned his bitterness on the brain kid.

'I recall that specifically tell you not to call me "Jackie boy"?' he demanded. 'I swear, John, if you call me that one more time, you're a dead man!'

'And I recall that you have threatened me with something along those lines before,' John said innocently, 'and you have yet to carry out your threat, mate.'

'Burn, man!' Terry said, thumping Jack on the back. 'Boy, you had better do something about this or be labeled "weak wimp" forever!'

For a moment, Jack had a good-humoured, indifferent smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, yet the smile was oddly twisted somehow . . . and John soon found out why. Jack's fist sliced through the air, harshly hitting its target—John's face. The latter reeled backward, stunned by the impact.

'What the fuck is your problem, Jack?' John asked angrily, spittle flying from his mouth.

'What the fuck is yours!' Jack retorted.

'What do mean _my_ problem? I—'

'Oh, we are not fighting, boys, are we?' said a cold, dangerous voice.

Jack felt the blood drain from his face.

'N-no, Mr. Lyori,' John stuttered. 'We were just having a . . . disagreement.'

Mr. Lyori glared at him suspiciously, and John immediately wished any teacher but Mr. Lyori had caught them. It was common knowledge amongst the students that the mean, mean teacher was able to convince the principal to expel students as quickly as anyone can say, "Butt monkey", and—worse yet—he gave out detentions twice as fast. He was one of those teachers who hated teaching and constantly waged a war against the students.

'Yes, a disagreement,' Jack clarified.

It was clear that the English teacher did not believe them, but he played along for a while, if only for his own interests.

'Then why is your nose bleeding?' he asked John.

'I . . . uh . . . walked into a wall,' John replied stupidly.

Jack sighed.

'Nice one, John,' he said sarcastically. 'I thought you were smart.'

John glared at him.

Mr. Lyori watched this brief exchange with an unpleasant smile twisting his strict features.

'That is an . . . interesting story, boys,' he said quietly before pulling a pink pad of paper and a pen from his chest pocket. 'I am sure that Mr. Leeaway, the Detention Supervisor, will be very intrigued by your tale.' He wrote something down with a flourish and handed the sheets to the teens, one each for Jack and John. 'Detention for both of you this afternoon,' the English teacher said with a wicked grin.

They took their pink slips without question.

'Yes, sir,' they replied in unison.

Mr. Lyori shot suspicious glares at the remainder of the party. Then he swiftly walked away to tell off a bunch of freshmen, who were blowing spitballs at each other.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!' Jack swore loudly, once he was certain that the professor was gone.

'You can say that again,' John muttered dejectedly.

'Oh, oh, I will!' Lee said enthusiastically. 'Fuck!'

John rolled his eyes.

'I cannot believe we have a detention!' Jack seethed. 'My mum's gonna kill me!'

'Hey, it could be worse,' Terry reasoned. 'At least you're stuck with an ol' buddy.'

'Yes, "buddy",' John repeated absentmindedly.

'Aw, come on, John, Jack,' Fred said, nudging his two friends in their sides, 'lighten up. So Jack threw a punch and John's face is smeared with blood. So what? I just hope it won't be the last time.'

'Hey!' John exclaimed indignantly.

'Just kidding, little buddy,' Fred laughed, clapping John on the back.

'Yeah, Terry's right, I guess,' Jack said with a shrug. 'Things could be worse, John. I'm sorry I hit you. I just . . . lost control.'

'Fine. Whatever,' John responded, shrugging as well.

Terry smiled and draped his arms over his friends' shoulders, almost knocking John to the ground.

'So . . . now that we're all best mates again, what do you say we all get a bite to eat. I really need it.'

'Ter, that's probably the last thing you need.'


	3. Gym Class

**(03) Gym Class**

'Hey, Jack! Jack!' someone was calling out to him.

Jack sighed and turned around.

'You!' he said disgustedly, looking at the boy with obvious disgust.

'My name is not "you",' the other replied indignantly. 'It's Ray. Get it right, mate.'

'Fine, _Ray_,' Jack said, 'how the hell do you know my name?'

'There's only one boy in the school with a reputation like yours.'

'I see . . .' Jack muttered. 'Listen, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I can't really talk right now. I've got a gym class to get to.' He briskly walked away.

'Wait, I just . . . Wait, Jack . . . It's about Ralph!'

The last word made Jack stop in mid-step.

'What about him?' The former asked, turning around to face Ray.

'I was just wondering if you've seen him.'

'I have no idea where he is,' Jack replied. 'Nor do I care.' He continued on his way.

'You should,' Ray suddenly said, and the other teen stopped again. Ray took the advantage to step closer to Jack and placed a leather wallet in his hand. 'If you see him, just give this to him, will you?'

'I'm not going to help you buy him,' Jack responded sourly, trying to push the wallet back into Ray's hand.

'This is _his_!' Ray exclaimed earnestly. 'He left it in the caf. Just return it to him, okay?'

Jack rolled his eyes.

'Fine. Whatever. I've got to go.' He hurriedly stuffed the wallet into his bag before running the rest of the way to Change Room C. Jack hastily changed into his gym uniform (comprised of shorts and a t-shirt with the school logo on it). Then he bolted out of the room and into Gym B. He was late again, and Mr. Penting would certainly not be pleased. He would be lucky if he could escape without equipment duty for a week.

'You're late, Mr. Merridew,' Mr. Penting said predictably, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

'But I didn't miss anything, sir,' Jack murmured. He glanced pointedly at the other boys, who were merely sitting about, watching the spectacle between he and Mr. Penting.

'You missed stretches,' the gym teacher replied, as if he was purposefully trying to find fault. 'You know why they're important, do you not?'

'Yes, sir,' Jack replied dully.

'Good. Then you can write me a 500-word essay on the importance of stretching before gym class,' he said. 'You will hand it in tomorrow.'

The teen groaned inwardly. Great, he had detention _and_ he had to write an essay by tomorrow! Personally, he'd prefer the week of equipment duty, but he knew better than to say so. He'd probably end up getting both.

'Yes, sir,' Jack muttered, not really looking forward to the apparently sleepless night ahead of him.

Mr. Penting gave him a horrible smile before turning his attention to the class as a whole.

'Okay, as I have mentioned yesterday, class, we will be doing wrestling today. We will start with the basics first, so I want all of you to find a partner. Quickly now, come on.'

Jack avoided Terry's questioning gaze and automatically paired himself off with Lee. Having his head busted open by the big bloke was somewhat less than amusing.

'Now, everyone, find some space on those mats at the edges of the gym. Mind you don't trip. Aha!' He laughed at his pathetic attempt at a joke, and a few boys gave him weak smiles as they spread about the room.

'Does everyone have a partner?'

Someone inched closer to the teacher tentatively.

'I don't have a partner, sir,' the boy said.

'You don't? Does anyone else not have a partner?' Mr. Penting asked loudly.

'I don't, sir,' Terry said sheepishly. It wasn't exactly a wonder to anyone why he didn't have a partner. As mentioned earlier, the only thing Terry prided himself on was his muscle, which he seemed to have an excessive degree of. The other boys didn't want to go near him, especially since today's lovely activity was wrestling!

'Very good, Terry. You can partner with . . . What's your name, son?' he asked the boy.

'Ralph, sir, Ralph Macpherson.'

Having been listening to the brief exchange between the boy and the teacher, Jack felt a cold shudder run though him at that name.

'Ralph?' Lee hissed into his hear. 'Isn't that the name of the kid you're supposed to be—?'

'Yes!' Jack cut him off.

'Aw, tough break, dude. If you partnered with him, it would probably have improved your chances. Then again, _I_ would have ended up with Ter then, so I guess this option was preferable. I mean, just look at . . .'

Jack just let Lee ramble on; his gaze was fixed on the broad-shouldered teen standing next to Terry. Ralph was rather attractive, in a way, but Jack didn't see what Ray saw in him. True, his eyes were amazing, his body fit . . . but . . .

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" scolded his conscience. "This is _Ralph_ you're thinking about! Stop it!"

Mr. Penting had begun talking again in his would-be enthusiastic voice, but only a few people were actually listening.

'And speaking of which, how long do you get?' Lee asked suddenly.

'What?' Jack questioned, completely at sea. He had forgotten that his friend was still talking.

'The kid,' Lee responded, indicating Ralph by cocking his head to one side. 'How long did that other guy give you to get Ralph?'

'A week. The usual,' Jack replied dully.

'A week . . . You know, we never finalized our bet,' Lee said, as if he had only just realized it. 'Mr. Lyori interrupted before we could work out the little details. Okay, you said that you get ten bucks if you win. Now, what should I get if _I_ win?' Lee contemplated the matter in his head, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Jack shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, knowing the other teen was trying to think up the worst punishment possible to get Jack back for all the other times he'd lost.

'I've got it!' Lee exclaimed gleefully.

Jack groaned miserably. It had to be real bad if Lee sounded so happy about it.

'Okay, if I win,' the other teen said, 'you have to wear a pink showercap, a bathrobe, and fluffy purple slippers and ask Mr. Lyori where his mother is because you have a date with her.'

Jack was on the verge of asking, "That's it" before he realized Lee could make this shit a whole lot worse if he wanted to.

"Hmm . . . a pink showercap, a bathrobe, and slippers . . . and ask Lyori where his mother is . . . Well, that's not so bad. I'll just be a laughing stock for the rest of my school career and probably get a month's worth of detentions. Maybe even get suspended or expelled for disrespect to teachers. Then again, none of that will matter, because my mum will probably bury me alive for doing something so stupid and ruining my future . . ."

'And what if I don't?' Jack challenged, raising his chin defiantly.

Lee grinned.

'I was hoping you'd say that. Well, you'd lose your reputation, for one. I wonder how you'll cope if you lost all your fuckers . . . say, forever!' The teen smirked. 'We all know that you can't last two weeks without someone to fuck.'

Jack paled, for he knew that to be true.

'Do we have a deal, old buddy?' Lee asked him maliciously, holding out his hand.

'Only if I can change _my_ prize, too,' Jack said. 'It's not fair if I have to do all that shit and you just have to give me ten bucks.'

'Fine. What do you want? Anything except the thing I just said. Think up your own fucking idea.'

Jack inwardly cursed, for he had been planning to make Lee do just that.

'I want your big screen TV,' he said.

'Wha? NO!'

Jack smiled smugly.

'Then change your stakes.'

Lee glared at Jack evilly before he finally replied, 'Fine. You'll get my TV. It's a deal.' He shook Jack's hand.

'Are you talking over there, Mr. Jacobs? Mr. Merridew?' Mr. Penting asked them loudly, a cruel smile darkening his features. 'You both have equipment duty for the remainder of this week. You must remain after class to put the mats away after everyone has left, and you must arrive early tomorrow morning to set them up for my first period class.'

'Yes, sir,' the two teens mumbled.

Jack was sure he heard Ralph snicker softly. A surge of hatred flowed through him. This was the worst day he'd had in years! Before Ralph had come back into his life (that very morning), he had been the big shot of the school. Guys were practically throwing themselves at him, and the teachers were just able to tolerate him enough not to give him excessive punishments.

Jack had been so stressed out from Ralph's very presence, and that stress made him act in reckless manners. Now he had equipment duty and a detention because Mr. Lyori had caught him punching John. (He had never punched John before, no matter how high-strung he was! And there was only one thing—or rather, person—he could blame that on.) Not only that, but he had to write an essay for Mr. Penting because he had been late for gym class . . . because he was talking to Ray _about_ Ralph!

"Oh, what a jolly day this is turning out to be."

-

Downright miserable and sullen from the day's ill-favoured events, Jack dragged his feet down the corridor to serve his detention. His rather heavy bag was slung uncomfortably over his back, and he felt like he was going to tip over at any given moment. He had had so much homework, and since he had detention, it would be difficult for him to find the time to finish it. (Mr. Leeaway never allowed the students to do homework during their detentions, feeling that it served them right to find their own time _after_ the detention to do it. He and Mr. Lyori were in the same league when it came to torturing the students.)

John trailed jadedly behind him, muttering something about having to miss the newest episode of "Star Trek" because of the stupid detention, and also something about losing his valuable studying time.

Jack felt a great urge to tell him to shut up, but he kept his mouth shut. After all, it had been him who had got them there in the first place, and he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for it.

Maintaining their silence (except for an occasional murmur from John), the two boys sauntered down the hallway to the Detention Hall. It was not a surprise to them to see that all the desks in the class were already taken; a few people stood irritably at the back of the room. It looked as if Mr. Lyori had been living up to his reputation of excessive detention-giving.

Jack sighed as he and John made their way to the back of the class to join the other boys standing there.

'Hey, Jack,' his friend, Peter, greeted him quietly. 'What are you in for this time?' (He made it sound like they were in prison.) 'Were you making out in the dark room again?'

Jack frowned.

'No. I punched John,' he replied, nudging the small-statured boy beside him. 'It was just a . . . misunderstanding. That's all.'

'Right.'

'What are _you_ here for?'

'Throwing a book across the room,' Peter shrugged. 'I don't know why Lyori made such a big deal out of it. I mean, no one got hurt. Just Jason, but no one really likes him anyway.'

Speaking of whom . . .

Mr. Lyori suddenly charged into the room, dragging a moody-looking Jason behind him. He tossed his suitcase onto the desk and practically threw Jason to the back of the class, where the teen went to stand nervously with the others.

'Settle down, people!' the teacher ordered, and the soft murmuring sweeping about the room almost disappeared. Almost. 'Mr. Leeaway was too busy to supervise you all today, so I was asked to step in,' he said, disgruntled.

'That explains Lyori's presence, but why is Jason in here?' Jack asked Peter from the corner of his mouth.

Peter grinned.

'He lost his temper with me and threw the book back.' He sighed in mock sympathy. 'The poor soul's aim is so bad that it hit Lyori instead.'

Jack turned his amused laughter into a hacking cough, having noticed for the first time the large bruise over Mr. Lyori's right eye.

'No talking, Mr. Merridew!' Mr. Lyori snapped.

'But I wasn't, sir!' Jack protested loudly. 'I was coughing!'

'Detention! You will return here tomorrow.'

'But why, sir?'

'You have just earned yourself another detention, Mr. Merridew! And if one more word comes out of your mouth, it will be a week's worth of detentions for you.'

Jack shifted his weight from foot to foot and angrily crossed his arms over his chest. But he said nothing. It was clear that the damned English teacher was in a bad mood, but he didn't have to take it out on Jack. That was _so_ unfair!

'Sucks to be you,' Peter mouthed, winking at Jack.

'Did you say something, Mr. Jones?'

Peter silently shook his head.

'Good. Then best keep it that way.' Mr. Lyori sat down in his chair and leaned back to survey the students scrupulously. His keen senses detected every movement done, every breath exhaled, every word spoken . . .

'You now have a detention tomorrow, Mr. Wong, and be glad it isn't more.'

Michael Wong, another of Jack's friends (ahem . . . "friends", hint hint), glared at the teacher and looked as if he was going to retort, but he wisely said nothing and silently accepted the punishment.

The seconds slowly dwindled by. Each minute seemed to take hours to pass. The hours appeared to be unlimited.

It became clear after a while that the boys standing at the back were getting restless. They leaned against the wall, shifted more often, crouched or sat down on the hard, cold floor . . . Jack's legs were aching fiercely, but he did not do as his fellows did. He would not give Mr. Lyori the satisfaction of knowing Jack was in pained misery.

A small beep sounded from somewhere, and all the students looked hopefully up at Mr. Lyori.

'It has been three hours,' the teacher said. 'You may go.'

Full of relief, the boys grabbed their belongings and made beelines for the door. Many of them would be returning tomorrow for another detention, for Mr. Lyori had given out no less than thirty more detentions for stupid things like "breathing too loudly" or "twiddling thumbs too fast".

Dreading his doubtless encounter with his mother, Jack picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder casually. There was nothing awaiting him at home except a definitely drunken father (who was hopelessly unconscious by now) and a lurid mother (who probably had an hour's worth of lectures for him). Plus he had that essay he had to do for Mr. Penting, plus the usual pile of homework from his classes . . .

After a hasty "bye" to John and Peter, Jack bolted out the door and—

CRASH!

Books and papers went flying, and Jack was thrown off of his feet.

"AGAIN! Of all the fucking ner—!" His mentality stopped in mid-curse when he realized who it was.

'Oh, hello, Ralph,' he greeted the other boy casually, as if they weren't sprawled in the midst of rubble and had just happened to come across each other in a quaint café of some sort.

'Hello,' Ralph replied, unsteadily getting to his feet. 'What are you doing here?'

'I had a detention,' Jack responded. 'What about you?'

'Oh, my teachers wanted me to stay around for a bit. You know, to catch up on the shit I've missed.' He cleared his throat nervously. 'Well, if you'll excuse me, I must really be heading home now. I'll be late for supper.' He frantically gathered his fallen belongings and headed for the door, where the last student from Mr. Lyori's detention had departed from but seconds before.

'We used to be friends, Ralph!' Jack called out to him.

To an outsider, it would merely have sounded like a random exclamation. But to Ralph, the words had actual meaning. His pale hand paused on the handle of the door, but he did not turn around to face the other boy. The latter picked up his bag and slowly made his way towards the hesitating teen.

'You remember, don't you?' Jack inquired softly. 'When we first arrived on the island . . . We used to joke together, laugh together, we used to have fun!' He sighed dramatically, again saying, 'We used to be friends.' He allowed his hand to drift seductively along Ralph's cheek.

The other determinedly avoided his gaze, even when Jack lightly urged Ralph's face to the side with his hand.

'So what are we now? Enemies?'

"Yes, it's working!" Jack cheered inwardly, watching the conflicting emotions pass across Ralph's face. "He's starting to forget why he's supposed to hate me. Yes! I might actually win this bet with that fucking Ray guy."

Jack kept his expression stony when he questioned, 'What changed between us, Ralph?'

The last question seemed to spur the other into action.

'What changed between us?' Ralph spat, furiously slapping Jack's hand away and succeeding in dropping his books again. 'You ask what changed between us! I'll tell you what changed between us, Jack Merridew!' He prodded his finger painfully into his companion's chest; his books lay forgotten on the ground. 'You said we used to be friends. Okay, I'll agree with that. We _used_ to. But then you plotted against me to become leader, when you know full well that they voted for me fair and square!'

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Ralph cut him off.

'Not only that, but you killed two of the few friends I had on that fucking island! Two people that actually remained loyal to me after all the hard shit I had to put them through for us to survive!'

'Wait a minute, I—'

'You persuaded some of the best guys to go to _your_ side just so you can go hunting! Hunting! Didn't you want to be rescued? Didn't you want to go home?'

'Well, yeah, but it seemed fucking imposs—'

'Oh, what else changed between us?' Ralph asked in mock curiosity. 'You tried to fucking kill me, Jack! I know I'm supposed to forgive people for their mistakes, but this . . .' He shook his head resolutely. 'I can't ever, _ever _forgive you for that, so don't make the mistake of considering me your friend' Teeth clenched in an almost pained fury, Ralph reclaimed his pile of books once more and stormed out the door.

Jack watched him go, having failed miserably. That was his foremost desperate attempt to remind Ralph how things used to stand between them, how much fun they used to have together on the island. Mistake! He had mentally forgot to include that little detail about him trying to kill Ralph.

What the fuck was he going to do now then? He _had_ to win that bet!


	4. The Dream

**(04) The Dream**

_The young boy jumped into a cluster of leaves and crouched amongst their obscuring presence. He could see the bright orange flames blazing around him, but he didn't move, lest the Hunters were to find him. Suddenly, the twins, Samneric, came into view. They were standing a short distance away and staring at him from behind their thick masks of dull paint._

_'You see anything?' a demanding voice asked them._

_'No,' Sam replied._

_'Nothing,' added Eric._

_The boy gave them a gratified smile, and they walked away. He was safe now, for the Hunters would leave this area and continue on to another. Then he would be able to find a refuge . . . somewhere, if they hadn't already burned the entire island to a crisp._

_'He's over here!' Roger unexpectedly yelled, waving over some of his fellows, while he trampled his way towards him._

_He immediately made a run for it, tripping over some stray logs as he went. An aching stitch appeared in the boy's side as he ran further and further from the mocking whistles of the Hunters. The smoldering flames teased at his legs, drawing from the child small gasps of pain as he tried to move on. _

_"I have to go on," he thought desperately. "I can't give up!"_

_The boy stubbornly ran away from the dreaded whistles, which were growing louder with each minute that passed. The Hunters were getting closer to their prey. The youth stumbled on a stray log, falling to the ground. He couldn't get up, for vines had somehow entwined themselves around his legs. He couldn't get away._

_'No . . .' he whispered hoarsely as the Hunters came down on him, jabbing him with their sharp sticks. 'No . . .' _

_A single figure stood proudly amidst the gleeful throng._

_'Now you know how _I _felt,' Ralph said with a bitter smile._

-

Jack woke with a start, having fallen out of bed. He fearfully wrenched the tangled bedsheets from his legs, reminded of the cursed vines of his nightmare. The teen remembered every dreadful detail of his dream—the fire, the whistles, the Hunters . . . _his_ Hunters. What were they doing with Ralph? Jack shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts.  
"That shit never happened on the island," he reminded himself. "It was just a dream . . . just a stupid nightmare."

The dream-Ralph's words echoed mockingly through his head: "_Now you know how _I _felt_."

'That fucking island is still haunting me!' Jack exclaimed in distress, clumsily climbing back onto his bed and tossing the sheet over his body.

"_Now you know how _I _felt_."

Jack's eyes closed in a fierce attempt to block the voice from his head.

"_Now you know how _I _felt_."

"Stop it!" he screamed mentally. "STOP!"

"_Now you know how _I _felt_."

Jack threw a careless arm over his eyes, finally understanding the deeper meaning of the words. Yes, now he knew how Ralph felt. He understood the betrayal the other boy had felt—betrayal from one he had once considered a friend. He understood the distress, the pain Ralph had had to endure from the loss of his friends, whom it seemed like he would be joining soon. He understood the fear . . . the fear . . .

Jack's teeth clenched in a sort of self-fury.

'I'm sorry, Ralph,' he said, his voice scarcely above a whisper. 'I'm so fucking sorry . . . I never knew.'

Little did he know that Ralph would hear his words.

-

Contrary to Jack's abrupt wakening, Ralph gently stirred from his dreamless sleep, having been woken by a soft breath of wind, as if someone were whispering in his ear. His eyes fluttered open and he groggily glanced at the clock stationed next to his bed.

'6:00?' he muttered miserably, burying his face in his pillow and closing his eyes. For some reason, however, he couldn't sleep. It was like something—or rather, some_one_—was calling out to him, keeping him awake. He clenched his eyes shut in a fierce attempt to return to the Realm of Sleep, but it was to no avail.

Sighing, Ralph kicked the tangled sheets from his legs and began to pace the room. He had no idea why he was so alert. He had been up late the night before trying to catch up on all the missed work his teachers gave him, and he had had much less than 8 hours of sleep. Why then was he so awake?

"Because you're thinking of Jack," his conscience reasoned.

'Shut up,' Ralph muttered aloud. 'I was _not_ thinking of Jack.'

But he was. He was thinking of the Jack he used to know. The playful one, who landed on the island with him, the one whom he was friends with. The Jack who tried to kill him was a different Jack, consumed by the inherent evil of all mankind. And the Jack who was now trying to befriend him was a mere shadow of the two extremes.

Ralph sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. Knowing that it would be useless to go back to sleep (as he would have had to wake up only a half-hour later), the teen grabbed his towel and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Once there, he stripped himself of his pyjamas, stepped into the shower, and turned on the water. Cold water ran smoothly down his back, but it was soon tempered by the following hot water and became a tolerable warmth washing over Ralph's body.

The teen reached over for the shampoo and squirted some of it into his hand. Then he subconsciously began to lather his hair with it. Subconsciously because, as we all know, his mind was rather diverted by a certain someone . . .

'After all these years, Jack . . .' Ralph muttered distractedly, leaving the thought unfinished.

"I'm sorry, Ralph," he heard the words trail unbidden through his head. "I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . ."

What the hell?

Ralph looked around nervously, wondering where the voice had come from.

"I'm sorry . . ." the words continued to echo through his head. "I'm sorry . . . I never knew . . ."

Realization suddenly dawned on him. That was _Jack's_ voice!

-

Still extremely distracted by the vision of Jack Merridew, Ralph stepped out of his bedroom a while later, fully-dressed and ready for school. He had just reached for his bag and was heading out the door when the doorbell suddenly rang.

'Ralph, honey, will you please get that?' his mother called to him from the kitchen.

'Um . . . sure, mum,' he replied. Now, who could be ringing at this time of day? After Ralph slung his bag over his jacket-clad shoulder, he went to open the door and his backpack abruptly fell to the ground once more.

'Hello, Ralph,' Jack said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a small smile.

'What are you doing here?' Ralph demanded, not caring for politeness or manners when faced with his former enemy.

'Why are you raising your voice, Ralph?' his mother asked him, her voice rising just above the clanging of metal pots. 'Who's there?'

'It's no one, mum,' Ralph replied shortly. 'Um . . . I'll be going now, okay? I'll see you after school.'

'Alright. Bye, dear.'

Ralph hastily retrieved his bag and stepped outside, slamming the front door shut behind him.

'What are you doing here?' he asked his companion once more. 'What made you have the sudden urge to come to my house? And speaking of which, how the fuck do you know where I live?'

In reply, Jack balanced his books on one arm and retrieved something from his pocket.

'Look familiar, Ralph?' he asked, holding up a leather wallet. 'You left this back in the caf.' He tossed the wallet to Ralph as he made his way down the steps.

'Oh, um . . . thanks.'

"Well, that explains how he found my house," Ralph thought, absentmindedly searching through his wallet to see if Jack had stolen anything . . . Nope. Even his postage stamps were still there.

'How did you get this?' the teen asked, falling into step beside Jack as the latter walked down the street to the closest bus stop. (How he knew exactly where the bus stop was, Ralph never found out.)

'Ray found it and he gave it to me,' Jack responded. 'Told me to return it to you.'

'Why did you bother coming all the way to my house to return it? If I recall, you have equipment duty this morning from Penting.'

Jack shrugged easily.

'Penting can go screw himself. I don't give a shit what I am supposed to do . . .'

"Though I do care for what I _want _to do," his unfinished sentence clearly stated.

'But why didn't Ray just give it back to me himself?' Ralph asked. 'It would have made more sense!'

Jack slowed his steps for a fraction of a second, but he quickly continued on as if nothing had happened.

'I had a dream about you last night,' he said suddenly, obviously trying to avoid the question.

'Really?' Ralph inquired, rather uninterested.

'About the last day we were on the island.'

Ralph froze and his nostrils flared out angrily.

'So what? You were happily recounting the time you almost killed me?' he spat.

'No, I—' Jack began, but Ralph cut him off.

'Look, I don't think now is the time to talk about that,' he teen said, pointing at something in the distance. 'The bus is here. We're going to be late.'

Before Jack could protest, Ralph took off down the street at a hasty run.

"We were actually on normal speaking terms with one another," he thought. "We were actually getting along. Then he had to bring up that stupid island memory! That jackass!" Ralph hastily clambered up the steps of the school bus and took a seat near the rear end of the bus. Jack soon re-appeared beside him, and the bus began to shake with motion.

'Can I sit there?' Jack questioned, indicating the empty seat beside Ralph.

'No,' Ralph replied stubbornly.

'Look, Ralph,' Jack began, sitting beside the teen despite his protest, 'can we talk about this? It's not what you think!'

'I don't want to talk about your little island dream right now,' Ralph muttered, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.

Jack's teen clenched in anger.

'Fine!' he huffily stood up. 'I just wanted to say that I'm sorry!' He stalked off to a seat near the front of the bus.

Ralph just watched him go.

-

When Jack stepped off the bus, he was not greeted with the usual "hey" from his group of friends. Instead, they crowded around him like a swarm of hungry bees and insistently bickered amongst themselves about Ralph.

'So, how's it going now, buddy?' John asked, clapping him on the back.

'You got him yet, kid?' Terry questioned.

'Of course he hasn't,' Fred responded. 'He's just biding his time. He wants this Ralph guy to fall for him hard, don't you, Jack?'

'Why would he bide his time?' John inquired. 'He's only got a week.'

'_Only _a week?' Lee exclaimed in disbelief. (He, too, seemed to have purposely skipped his equipment duty. Whether if was because of exasperation with Mr. Penting or simple forgetfulness, Jack never found out)'Only! Remember who you're talking about, Johnny. This is _Jack_!'

'Yeah, I'm Jack, and I don't need the whole fucking week to win that dude over,' Jack said with false cheerfulness. How could he tell his friends that this was probably the one bet he would lose?

'That's my boy!' Terry said, putting him into a headlock and giving him a noogie.

Laughing, Jack struggled out of Terry's meaty grip and stepped away from his overenthusiastic friend. Suddenly, he noticed something from the corner of his eye.

'Erm . . . I'll be right back,' he murmured to his gang before rushing over to catch up with Ray. 'Hey!' he yelled, trying to draw the other boy's attention.

Ray turned around.

'G'day, mate,' he greeted with a cheerful smile.

'Listen,' Jack said, gasping for breath. 'I was wondering if we could add an extra week or something. It's more fun if you can take your time to lay down the foundation and stuff.'

'Ah, but it's even _more_ fun if you have to fret about time!' Ray replied, still grinning; he casually flipped up his fur-rimmed hood.

'Yeah, I know,' Jack murmured. 'But—'

'No "buts", mate,' Ray interrupted. 'A deal's a deal.' He flicked his hair out of his face and walked away.

'Hey, wait!' Jack called after him.

'We're not changing the bet now,' Ray replied.

'No . . . I mean, I know, but I was just wondering something.'

Ray slowly turned around.

'Yeah?'

'I was wondering why you didn't just give Ralph's wallet back yourself,' Jack said, shifting his books over to his other arm. 'I mean, admittedly, Ralph likes you better, so it would probably have improved your chances, and it also would have been a perfect excuse to go to his house . . . So why'd you give the wallet to me?'

'Does it matter?' Ray inquired, raising his brow.

Jack, who expected Ray to say that he had never even thought of that, was rather taken back.

'S-so you knew what y-you were doing?' Jack stammered.

Ray just gave him a secretive wink and walked away.

-

Ralph groaned miserably as he dragged himself off to homeroom. Math was _so_ boring, and the way Mr. Piddy taught it made it seem even more so. Granted, he had only been in that class for a day, but that was enough to understand Mr. Pid-meister's style of teaching.

Ralph entered the room, immediately heading towards the back of the class. Then he threw his bag on the ground beside his desk and slumped into his chair.

'You are here early, Mr. Macpherson,' Mr. Piddy said cheerfully, straightening some of the papers on his desk.

The teen would very much have liked to say that he was only there because he had no where else to go, but he decided against it.

'I am glad to see that my newest student is taking such an active interest in the wonderful world of mathematics,' he continued.

Ralph rolled his eyes. Everything from his facial expression to his posture showed that he would rather be digging graves in cemeteries rather than be sitting in that math class, but the professor seemed oblivious to those facts. (Heh! Some professor!) Ralph uninterestedly glanced at the blackboard, reading up on the lesson plan for the day. Just then, however, his view was blocked by the last person he wanted to see (but was obviously forced to).

'Jack,' Ralph greeted the other stiffly as Jack hurried to his seat behind him and messily dumped his books on the table.

'Ralph,' Jack said, sitting down and leaning forwards over his desk to speak quietly into the other boy's ear. 'We need to talk.'

'I have nothing to talk to you about,' Ralph replied without facing him. He busied himself for a moment by slipping out of his jacket.

'But _I_ do!' Jack said, grasping the back of the other's chair. 'Just let me explain. That dream—'

_RING_!

The bell suddenly rang to signal the five-minute interlude before class started; a few students walked in and took their seats.

Jack sighed and started again.

'That dream—'

This time, it was Ralph who interrupted him.

'—was unnecessarily mentioned to me,' he said firmly. 'If you want to bask in the glory that you almost killed me, there's no need to tell me about it. Just say it to your friends, behind my back, whatever! Just don't remind _me_!'

'Please, Ralph,' Jack said, practically begging now. 'It's not what you think. You misunderstand what I'm trying to say.'

Ralph said nothing, so he continued.

'That dream on the island . . . well, it's the first one I've had in a while . . . but things didn't happen the way they were . . . supposed to.'

Curiosity itched at the edges of Ralph's mind, but he remained stubbornly silent and didn't reply.

'I saw things,' Jack said, 'from _your _poi—'

_RING_!

The second bell rang, signaling the start of class.

'Argh!' Jack growled, fisting his hair. 'Talk about crap timing.'

Ralph felt the urge to laugh, but he didn't. He was still wondering about what Jack said; how things didn't happen the way they were "supposed" to, that he saw things from Ralph's . . . what? His poi? What the hell was he going to say? And what was a "poi"?

"I can't believe I'm actually listening to him," Ralph thought bitterly, retrieving his books from his bag.

"Yeah, why are you?" asked another voice in his head. "He tried to kill you, kid, remember?"

"I remember," Ralph replied mentally. "But that doesn't sate my curiosity. I want to know what he was going to say."

"No, you don't. It's probably just some shit about how you actually burned alive instead of escaping. You know, like that nightmare you had the other night."

"Yeah. Maybe." Ralph thought, sighing. Ever since they had escaped that dreadful island, he had been living an almost normal life, save for the fact that his father moved their family around a lot. Still, he was happy. Then what happened! Jack re-entered his life, that's what!

He was trapped in a nightmare from hell.

-

Jack forlornly shrugged off his jacket and sat back in his seat, just as a few last-minute stragglers hurried into the room.

'Settle down, people. Settle down,' Mr. Piddy said loudly. 'Put your textbooks away and take out a sheet of blank paper. We are going to have a little pop quiz.'

Usually, this would have caused an unhappy stir to sweep around the classroom, but Mr. Piddy had slipped up and accidentally written "Pop quiz" on the day's lesson plan on the board. A few people snickered softly at his stupid mistake.

'Ah, yes, well . . .' Mr. Piddy said uncomfortably, having just realized his slip. 'I suppose you already knew that.' He agitatedly ran a hand through his hair, unintentionally pushing his toupee off and revealing his bald, shiny head.

Jack fought the urge to smile, thinking, "Hehehe, Piddy Man is so funny sometimes."

'Yes, well . . .' the teacher said again, hastily replacing his hairpiece. 'Mr. Johnston, can you please retrieve the quiz papers from my desk and hand them out—facedown—to the class.

'Yes, sir.' The student quickly did so, and everyone soon had a quiz sheet in front of him.

Mr. Piddy consulted his watch.

'You may start . . . now!'

Irritating shuffling sounds were heard as everyone turned over their quizzes. The sound of pencils scratching along the surface of paper soon drowned out the following silence.

-

'W-we are going to have a little assignment, class,' Mr. Piddy announced about fifteen minutes later. 'It will be done in pairs."

The boys shifted slightly in their seats, turning their heads about and whispering softly to each other to pair themselves off with their friends.

'_I _will be choosing your partners,' Mr. Piddy said suddenly, and the murmurings immediately stopped.

'How, sir?' someone in the front asked. 'With the person beside us?'

'No. By surname,' the professor replied, consulting a long list of names on his desk. 'When I say your names, I would like you to please sit together. Let us begin then, shall we: Andrews and Barrel.'

The teen sitting beside Jack—Jacob Andrews—dragged his chair over to the opposite side of the class to sit beside his partner.

'Bing and Borginski, Bunte and Cassidi, Cedrics and Corale,' Mr. Piddy continued, pausing for a moment between each pair to allow the students to move to their appropriate places. 'Cordrinont and Davidson, Derylee and . . .'

Jack let his mind wander about for a while, knowing that his name—Merridew—wouldn't be called for a while. He watched as Mr. Piddy shakily took the list in his hands and held it closer to his face, as if trying to hide himself.

"Why is he so nervous?" Jack wondered.

His question was immediately answered by a soft cough from someone behind him.

Being as discreet as possible, Jack turned his head slightly to see who was sitting there. He sat at the very back of the room, so it was odd for someone else to be there behind him, yet there was—a woman. She looked to be somewhere in her mid-thirties, with neat bun situated at the back of her head. She wore a conservative black dress and a clipboard rested on her knee.

"It looks like she's evaluating Mr. Piddy," he thought.

It wasn't very unusual for someone from the School Board to come to the school for such a purpose; there was an assessment every year! But this was, in fact, Mr. Piddy's first year at this school, so it was obvious why he was so . . . tense.

"Tense . . . now that's a _major_ understatement!"

Suddenly, Mr. Piddy looked up and said, as if in slow motion, 'Macpherson and . . . Merridew.'


	5. Understanding

**(05) Understanding**

Ralph's head shot up, for he had been on the verge of falling asleep.

'What did you say, sir?' he inquired, interrupting Mr. Piddy as he announced the next pair. _Surely_ he had heard wrong.

The professor sighed and consulted his list.

'Ralph Macpherson and Jack Merridew,' he said, glancing pointedly at the two teens. 'You two are together for this assignment.'

Ralph groaned inwardly.

"Not Jack! Why must he make my life so miserable!"

"It's not Jack's fault you two are paired together," reasoned the logical part of his mind. "You just happen to have closely placed last names in the alphabet."

"But that doesn't make me feel any better."

When the teacher had said that he would be pairing the class off, Ralph hadn't really cared much. At least he wouldn't have to be embarrassed by having to choose between working alone or with some nerdy dork. He had been so busy for the past day (trying to catch up on all his missed work) that he couldn't really find the time to make friends. The only real one he had was Ray, and the Aussie wasn't in _any_ of his classes.

Ralph hadn't thought Mr. Piddy's choosing would be a big deal, because whoever he was paired with . . . Well, the other students would have understood and probably even pitied him if he got stuck with the class geek. Personally, he'd have preferred that to the partner he actually had.

"Why Jack!" he thought miserably. "Why _him _of all people?"

'Valentin and Warrington, and finally Zeres,' Mr. Piddy finished. 'Mr. Zeres, you may choose another group to be with, for we have an uneven number of gentlemen in the class now.' He glanced pointedly in Ralph's direction. 'Now,' he said, clapping his hands together as Ned Zeres hurried over to join his friends. 'I suppose you are all wondering what this assignment is.'

"Not really."

Mr. Piddy went over to his desk and pulled out a pile of papers from the top drawer.

'Together with your partner, you are to do _all_ these questions. There are about 200 of them in all.'

A loud groan made its way across the classroom.

'Tut tut, it is not that much,' the professor said, handing some of the thick paper packages to the person in the very corner of the desk setup with the instructions to pass them backwards. Then the last person—Ralph—was to pass them over to Jack in the other row, whereby he was to pass them forwards, and so on and so forth.

'You will have two days to do these questions . . .' Mr. Piddy said, and there was a sigh of relief from the class. '. . . Tops!' he suddenly added. 'So you will have to do some of them on your own time also.'

"Fuck it," Ralph cursed. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

'But, sir,' a student across the room began, waving his hand belatedly in the air, 'we've never learned this stuff.'

Ralph's copy of the assignment was handed to him and he looked it over, subconsciously tossing the mound of papers across the aisle to Jack. It was true—they _hadn't_ learned any of the stuff on the assignment. What was Mr. Piddy playing at?

'I know,' the teacher said with a small smile. 'Your assignment is not only to _do_ the questions, which may take a while,' he added in an undertone. 'You are also to tell me what the general rule is for those type of questions. Remember, there will always be exceptions.'

Ralph slumped in his chair.

"WHAT!" Suddenly, being with the class geek didn't seem like such a bad idea . . . but he was stuck with Jack.

Mr. Piddy sat sitting down at his desk, appearing livelier than he had all class.

'Your assignments are to be handed on Friday at the beginning of class,' he said. 'No exceptions!'

'What if we're ill that day?' Ralph asked.

The professor gave him a bitter smile.

'Do not pre-plan any illnesses, Mr. Macpherson,' he warned. 'If a student is absent on that day,' Mr. Piddy said in a louder voice to address the class as a whole, 'he must have another student hand it in for him. Otherwise, he will lose 10.'

"That's not so bad."

As if he had heard Ralph's thoughts, Mr. Piddy continued.

'If it is handed in at the end of class, 15 will be lost. And since that is a Friday, the assignment is quite impossible to be handed in on the weekend. Therefore, the unlucky student will lose 30.'

Ralph groaned, and he wasn't the only one to have done so . . . but Mr. Piddy wasn't finished yet.

'If it is handed in on Monday before class, that is 35. After class: 40. On Tuesday, it will be 50, regardless of it being handed in before or after class. On Wednesday, do not even bother giving it to me, because I will not accept it. You would already have failed, so it would not matter if you got this mark.' Seemingly satisfied with the class' less than enthusiastic reaction concerning this assignment, he pulled out a thick pile of papers and began to mark them. 'Do not, I repeat, do _not_ write on the instruction pages. I will be collecting them all back when you hand in your assignments, which I suggest you begin now,' he said, not looking up. 'Marks will be given for effort, but on the same note, they will also be taken away for incompletion.'

Still wondering how that could really work out, Ralph absentmindedly dragged his chair over to Jack's desk with a long, screechy sound.

'So . . .' Jack said, twirling his pencil around with his fingers.

'So,' Ralph replied. 'This sucks major shit, doesn't it?' he inquired, trying to keep the mood light. 'A quiz and an assignment in the same day.'

'Ralph,' Jack said softly, his voice barely audible against the hissed mutterings of their classmates. 'Please, just let me talk. Let me finish what I was saying.'

Ralph immediately began to shuffle his papers around in an effort to keep busy and avoid Jack's gaze. Although his curiosity was at its peak, he really didn't want to listen to anything the latter had to say.

'We had better start,' he said, pulling out a fresh sheet of lined paper. 'This is due in two days' time. We'll probably have to work in the library at lunchtime and after school, too, to get it finished in time.'

'Ralph, please. We have to talk.'

'I have nothing to say to you,' he said shortly.

'But I have shit to say to you!' Jack snapped briskly, then he lowered his voice to a volume just above a whisper. 'I saw things from your point of view,' he said quickly before Ralph had the time to interrupt.

'What?' Ralph questioned, dumbfounded.

'I-I saw things on the island from _your_ perspective,' Jack repeated, slower this time.

'What are you talking about?'

'The day . . . the last day that we were on the island, the one with the fire . . . I saw things from your point of view.'

'You're repeating yourself, Jack, and you're not making any sense,' Ralph said, unconsciously leaning forward to converse more quietly with the other teen.

'Remember when my Hunters tried to burn you out of the forest to . . . to kill you?'

'Under _your_ orders,' Ralph muttered.

'Well, I actually _saw_ how things were for you. I felt your . . . your hatred, your fear, your feelings that I betrayed you.'

Ralph hand suddenly twitched and he dropped his pencil on the ground. He took the opportunity to retrieve it so that Jack would not see the expression on his face, the expression of surprise that Jack seemed to clearly understand what he had felt. _Surely _Jack had to be lying about the dream he had . . . but then how could his description be so accurate?

Ralph suddenly remembered the reason he had woken up that morning, how he had heard a whisper saying, "I'm sorry. I didn't know." That had sounded very much like Jack's voice, but . . .

"No way! Why would _I_ be hearing Jack's thoughts?" Ralph re-emerged from under the desk and calmly glanced at his assignment sheet for the first question.

'You don't believe me, do you?' Jack whispered, drawing doodles on the corner of his page.

'Not for a second,' the other teen replied honestly, writing a few numbers and signs down on his sheet of paper.

Jack nodded in acceptance of this and finally began to work on their math assignment.

'I didn't know Samneric lied about where you were,' he said quietly, not looking up from his page.

Ralph froze suddenly. How did Jack know about that? Were they stupid enough to tell him?

"He's telling the truth," the teen finally realized. "He really _did_ have that dream."

Sighing in resignation, Ralph delicately set his pencil down on the desk and leaned forward to speak quietly with Jack.

'I want you to tell me everything you saw.'

-

At lunchtime that day, Jack was bombarded with yet more inquiries about Ralph.

'How're you getting along with him now, Jack?' Fred asked, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement.

'He's probably screwing up big time,' Lee said.

'Actually, things are starting to look lot better for them,' John said. He and Terry had asked Jack about it in history class the period before.

'Yeah, tell them what happened, Jack,' Terry added.

'Well—' Jack began, but Michael Wong suddenly came up to them and punched Jack amiably in the shoulder.

'Hey, Jack,' he said. 'I bet for you, man. Don't let me down.' And just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

'I bet against you, Jack,' said one of the boys from another table. 'Don't let _me_ down!'

Jack looked at him, confused.

Lee just laughed.

'Hope you don't mind, buddy,' he said, clapping Jack on the back, 'but I spread the word a bit.'

'A bit?' Jack inquired. Now that he thought about it, a lot of boys were staring at him . . . more than usual, anyway. They also seemed to be giving him secretive gestures, like a smile or a wink, as if they knew something. It seemed as though _everyone_ knew about the bet . . . everyone except Ralph, that is.

'Just how many people did you tell, Lee?' John asked, having noticed the stares as well.

'Only about twenty or so,' Lee replied, shrugging.

'Twenty! Do you know how fast rumours leak around this place?' Fred inquired, bug-eyed.

Lee glanced at Jack and he gave his friend a wicked grin.

'Yep.'

Jack, however, hadn't noticed this brief exchange between his friends. He had been too distracted because of: (a) all the guys staring at him, and (b) a certain someone who had just walked into the cafeteria.

'I'll be right back,' he muttered, hurrying over to Ralph.

'Hey,' the other teen greeted him.

'Hey,' Jack replied in turn.

After their little conversation about the island in the math classroom, they had come to a certain, unexplainable understanding. They were no longer enemies, but they were not yet friends. They were merely . . . acquaintances.

'Listen, we didn't get a lot of work done in class,' Ralph said, 'so do you want to work in the library later.'

'Sure,' Jack responded. 'How long from now?'

Ralph glanced at his wristwatch.

'I don't know . . . Is ten or fifteen minutes okay?'

'Sure,' Jack said again. 'I guess I'll see you there then.'

'Yeah, see you.'

Jack exhaled loudly and turned around to return to his gang.

'Gah!' he exclaimed in surprise when Lee suddenly appeared from behind him.

'Is that the only kind of conversation the two of you have?' Lee asked, grinning. 'Hey . . . Hey . . . What's up . . . Nothing . . . Okay . . . I got to go . . . Okay . . . Bye . . . Bye.'

'That wasn't what our conversation sounded like,' Jack said indignantly. 'We were actually talking in _full_ sentences, Lee.'

'Yeah, only because you were arranging a meeting in the library to work!' Lee sneered. 'Like, who the hell hits on someone by asking to meet them in the library? This guy obviously doesn't have the hots for you. You're in trouble, man.'

'Like you would care,' Jack retorted. 'You bet on me _losing_, remember? And shut up about that library shit. FYI, _I_ used to ask guys to meet me in the library.'

'Because you would make out in the storage room at the back,' Lee said in a bored voice. 'Yeah, yeah, I know the story. Even the ending . . . But if you recall, you've been trying to _avoid _the library where possible, because you would die of embarrassment if you had to face Mrs. Penning again after that little . . . incident.'

Mrs. Penning was the old school librarian who looked as if she had been around at the time of the dinosaurs. She also happened to be the one who caught Jack and his "significant" other making out ("significant", meaning they broke up in two days).

'Yeah, I know I never go to the library, but _that_'s not the reason why,' Jack said. 'You actually think _I_ would get embarrassed for that? Ha! Really though, I never go there anymore because I almost gave old Mrs. Penning a heart attack from my . . . excursion. The only thing I would die from would be the guilt if she actually had one because of me.'

Lee laughed loudly and led the way back to their table.

'Back so soon?' John asked. 'Snagged him already, didja, Jack?'

'No,' Jack replied. 'We were just arranging to meet in the library.'

'The library?' Terry asked stupidly. 'This school has a library?'

Jack chuckled softly and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

'Ter, man, I worry about you sometimes.'

-

A half-hour later, Jack skidded to a halt in front of the table Ralph was sitting at. He was breathing hard and clutching at a stitch in his chest with his free hand; his other hand held his math book in it.

'You're late,' Ralph said reprovingly, looking over at Jack from his pile of books.

'Couldn't be helped,' Jack managed to gasp out. That was the truth. A hoard of boys had been following him around for all of twenty minutes, trying to find out what Jack's progress was with Ralph so they would know which side to bet on. The teen had been bombarded with useless questions like "is his favourite colour the same as yours?" and "is he even interested in guys?". Okay, so the latter _was_ actually important, but that didn't mean it annoyed Jack any less than the former did.

'Sit down,' Ralph said, indicating the seat beside him.

Jack did so and gazed awe-struck at the mound of books on the table that he had only just noticed.

'What are all these for?' he asked. 'You only need the assignment page and about a thousand sheets of paper, so what's with all the books?'

'We're getting marked on our accuracy,' Ralph replied, underlining the title of the new section he had started on. 'I figured that all these books might help us.'

Jack glanced at the _one_ book he still had in his hand, and it immediately felt very insignificant.

'That was smart of you,' he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

'Jack!' someone abruptly exclaimed in a surprised tone.

Jack twisted around in his seat to see who had called him, and he was less than happy to see Mrs. Penning standing there. He gave her a cheery wave, and she immediately dropped the stack of books in her arms and fled to her office.

'Wonder what's wrong with her?' Ralph asked, having just witnessed this amusing sight.

Jack just shrugged.

'Beats me,' he lied, pulling out his pencil.

'Okay, this is what I figured we could do,' Ralph said, shifting some books over so that Jack would have room to write. 'I'll do half of it and you do half of it, and we'll help each other along the way and stuff. Then we'll just copy it off each other or whatever.'

'Sounds fair enough,' Jack agreed, shrugging again. Then they got down to work.

The two boys had been working hard for only five minutes when they were interrupted again. This time, by annoying would-be whispers from the shelves behind them.

Jack had a sneaking suspicion who it was.

'Excuse me for a sec,' he murmured to Ralph, and he stood up to confront the snickering teens, who immediately pulled random books off the shelves and pretended to be reading. 'What the hell do you want?' he hissed.

'What are you talking about, Jack?' one of them asked innocently, holding a book upside-down in his hand.

'Don't play dumb with me. You know what I'm talking about.'

'Do we?' another asked.

'Oh, so you're telling me that you're just looking at a page on vaginal parts just for the fun of it?' Jack snapped.

The other teen, who seemed to be a freshman, glanced down at the book he was holding and abruptly dropped it on the ground.

'Ew!' he squeaked, wiping his hands on his pants, as if they were contaminated from touching the book.

Jack rolled his eyes.

'What the hell are you doing here?'

'Just watching your progress,' the first teen replied, putting his book away. 'That's all.'

'Yeah? Well, it's bloody annoying! Get lost!'

'No way,' a third person protested, following suit and stuffing his book onto a nearby shelf. 'This is starting to get interesting.'

Jack recognized him as one of the older students in the school. In fact, it was the one he was making out with in the storage room when Mrs. Penning hadcaught them.

'What's so interesting about us sitting at a table and doing our homework, Steve?' he asked.

'Because after doing some work, you make your move. I remember . . .'

His companions smirked and Jack rolled his eyes.

'Don't make me have to kill you, Steve. Get you and your fucking little friends out of here!'

Steve threw up his hands in defeat.

'Alright, we're going, but only after you answer one question: Which side should we bet on?'

'OUT!' Jack screamed, his voice echoing throughout the cavernous room.

The teens immediately fled, shooting fearful glances back at Jack; the latter was waving his fist at them angrily.

'What's with all the yelling?' Ralph asked, suddenly appearing.

Jack jumped in surprise.

'Why does everyone have to _do_ that!' he exclaimed.

When Ralph started to giggle, Jack nudged him in the shoulder.

'Come on, we've got work to do,' he said stiffly, making his way back to the table.

-

_RING_!

It was time for gym class again. Jack amiably walked alongside Ralph as the two of them walked to the change rooms together.

'We'll have to work on it tonight,' Ralph said, obviously talking about their math assignment.

'Yeah,' Jack agreed absentmindedly. 'Where though?'

'Library.'

'How long do you think we need? The library closes about three hours after school ends.'

Ralph groaned.

'I think we're going to need a bit more time than that,' he admitted bitterly, opening the door to Change Room B.

'Maybe we can work on it at your house then,' Jack suggested.

'Why my house?' Ralph questioned. 'Why not yours?'

"Because my mom's a control freak and my dad is a drunk bastard," he thought, but he knew better than to say this aloud.

'Because . . . because my parents . . .' he began, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.

'Yes?' Ralph prompted, taking a seat on one of the wooden benches.

Jack shook his head.

'Never mind,' he muttered, sitting down beside the other boy.

Ralph, who seemed to have sensed Jack's discomfort on the subject, said, 'I guess we can work at my house.'

Jack's face brightened immediately.

'Great.'

'Don't mention it.' Ralph smiled. 'Ever!'

-

'Okay, class, we will continue with our wrestling unit today,' Mr. Penting said after they had finished stretches (and after he had finished chastising Jack in front of the entire class for having skipped his equipment duty that morning). 'We will be learning one of the most basic wrestling skills today—pinning your opponent. Please divide into pairs.'

Ralph purposefully avoided Terry's eye and wandered about the gym, looking for another partner. Being with the big bloke yesterday had left him rather pained and bruised, and it wasn't exactly an experience he'd like to repeat.

'Hey, Ralph, you want to be partners?' Jack asked, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

Without a second thought, Ralph replied, 'Sure. Why not?' After all, being with Jack had to be a helluva lot better than being with Terry . . . wasn't it?

'Hey, Lee!' Ralph heard Terry's booming voice yell. 'Looks like we're partners, ol' buddy.' From the paled look on Lee's face, it was apparent to Ralph that he would rather eat a garden snake.

'Okay, Ter,' Lee replied, his face quickly becoming an unattractive shade of green.

Ralph chuckled softly and glanced over at Jack, who was watching his friends with an amused glint in his eye. In the course of one day, Jack proved to be quite different from the boy who had tried to kill him on the island. He wasn't the cocky, arrogant, conceited bastard that Ralph once knew. No, he'd changed. Firstly, Jack no longer wanted to kill him, and that was a big plus! Ralph took in the fine, attractive features of his partner, noticing how his eyes always seemed bright and mischievous. His silky hair was slightly curly at the tips and his plush lips were—

'What are you looking at?' Jack asked him suddenly, but it wasn't the hard, demanding voice he once used when speaking to Ralph.

'Nothing,' Ralph replied quickly, turning his attention to Mr. Penting, who was describing ways to pin down their opponents when wrestling.

'You must ensure that your partner cannot escape,' he said, and it was only then that Ralph realized he was using Terry and Lee as an example. The larger teen was almost crushing the latter with his weight as he clumsily tried to press Lee down onto the mats.

'I don't think you'll have to worry about Lee escaping, Mr. Penting,' another student whispered, 'Terry's about to suffocate him.'

'Hey, shut up, man!' Terry snapped, getting up slightly to relieve Lee of some of his weight.

Beside Ralph, Jack was laughing his ass off, letting out loud guffaws from seeing Lee in such a state.

'Serves you right, man!' he mouthed, pointing at Lee.

Ralph suppressed a smile of his own, not from Lee's situation, but from how giddy Jack looked. It was pretty funny . . .

'Can you do better, Jack?' Terry questioned, slightly hurt from the way his friend was acting and thinking it was at him rather than Lee.

'Maybe,' Jack replied. His laughter ceased as he rose up to the challenge.

A dramatic "ooh" was murmured through the class.

'Then you must do so, Mr. Merridew!' Mr. Penting said, enthusiastically clapping his hands. 'You and your partner will do the Rock Pin.'

'Do the what?' Jack inquired.

'The Rock Pin. Just pin Mr. Macpherson down. We are not doing any full-out wrestling matches until all of you have mastered the basics,' he added to the class.

'What's the Rock Pin?' Jack asked Ralph quietly, but it was still loud enough for Mr. Penting to hear.

'If you were listening, you would know what I am talking about, Mr. Merridew.'

Jack paled slightly and nudged Ralph towards the mat.

'Come on,' he murmured.

-

'What's the Rock Pin?' Jack questioned Ralph again, and the latter shrugged.

'I know just about as much about it as you do, Jack,' Ralph responded.

'Oh, great.' Jack cast his gaze over to Terry and Lee, who were still in the Rock Pin position, whatever that was. Jack had about a millisecond to see what it was before his two friends stood up to go join the rest of the class, who were forming a spectacle circle around Jack and Ralph. 'Okay, I think I know what to do,' Jack muttered. 'Just lie on the mat.'

Ralph did so, stretching out comfortably on his back.

'Sorry, Ralph,' Jack muttered before he nervously straddled the teen's hips and leaned over him, stationing his hands on either side of Ralph's head.

'Off to a bad start, are we, Mr. Merridew?' Mr. Penting mocked, and the class giggled softly.

Jack rolled his eyes and instead leaned further. He used his forearms to press Ralph's shoulders firmly into the mat. Their noses almost touched, and their breaths intermingled, facts that both teens noticed. Two sets of eyes locked, ebony with sapphire. In that one shared instant, everything around them shattered and disappeared into oblivion. Only they existed for that moment . . . and for each other . . .

Jack started when he felt something hard against his thigh, and he immediately rolled off of Ralph and sat down on the mat. It was then that the moment was broken.


	6. At Ralph's House

**(06) At Ralph's House**

Ralph closed his eyes and slowly sat up, well aware of his classmates' gazes upon him, despite his inability to see. He didn't know what had happened then, what had occurred between Jack and himself. He just knew that it had been something . . . wonderful.

"But then he jumped away because of me," he thought bitterly. "Ironic, though, isn't it? _He_ was the one who was hitting on me, but now that I show the slightest bit of . . . interest, he runs away."

Ralph opened his eyes and stared at Jack, who was determinedly avoiding his gaze.

'That obviously proves that you weren't listening, Mr. Merridew,' Mr. Penting said suddenly, using a loud enough voice for everyone to hear. 'I want another 500-word essay. This time on the importance of listening.'

'Yes, sir,' Jack replied automatically, staring at the ground.

'Good, then let us continue, and be sure to _listen_ this time, Mr. Merridew. You must pay attention as well, Mr. Macpherson.'

'Yes, sir,' the two teens responded in unison.

Throughout the rest of the lesson, Ralph was _just_ able to survive without "showing his interest" again. It was pure agony on his part to be partnered with Jack after that incident, especially since the day's lesson consisted of _very_ close contact between the two of them.

It came of an immense relief to Ralph when the period finally ended. He hastily ran out of the gym and into the change room. Then he went off to his next (and final) class.

-

'What was that about?' Lee asked Jack as the two of them, plus Terry, made their way to their fifth period class—English with Miss Nightingale. (Thank God they didn't have Mr. Lyori for that class.)

'What are you talking about?'

'In gym class. What happened between you and Ralph?'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' he lied, shrugging his shoulders. In truth, he himself had been wondering what happened. It was as if their very environment had disappeared, and only he and Ralph had remained. The moment, though fleeting, had been extremely intense. It seemed to last for a lifetime, yet not long enough. But then Jack had felt a certain something on his leg and he leapt away, more out of shock and reflex than actual willingness.

Could Ralph actually be interested in him? Did their short time together (after being apart for so long) make such an immense difference? It was too much to hope for, and yet . . . it seemed to make sense!

'Okay, I lied,' Jack admitted, promptly dropping his books on the ground. He leaned over to pick them up. 'I know what you're talking about, Lee, and I honestly don't know what happened. It was like . . . like . . . Argh!' Jack growled. He hastily gathered the rest of his belongings and fled to his English class.

'You can't run away from us, Jack!' Terry called after him. 'We're in the same fucking class!'

'And we know where you live!' Lee added.

Jack ignored them and continued to run, not stopping until he reached the classroom, where he sat down in his usual seat at the back of the class.

'You are quite early today, Jack,' Miss Nightingale (one of the very few teachers in the school who actually had the decency to call the students by his first name) observed approvingly, for he was usually late for class and it was something that greatly annoyed her. 'Class does not start for another three minutes.'

'Yeah, I know,' Jack replied.

'Hey, Jack!' Lee called as he and Terry rushed into the room and took their seats on either side of Jack.

'You are early as well?' Miss Nightingale inquired of the two newcomers. 'I'm impressed.'

'Hi, miss,' Terry grunted.

'Oh, hello, Miss Nightingale,' Lee responded shortly before returning his attention back to his friend. 'You didn't have to run away like that, you know. We just wanted to talk to you.'

'Yeah,' Terry said. 'We wanted to know what happened between you two in the gym.'

No matter how dumb he seemed sometimes, Jack had a tendency to forget that Terry _did_ have a brain.

'We were just . . . looking at each other,' he said sheepishly.

'It was much more than that, man,' Lee said. 'You _know _it was.'

Under his friend's fierce, confident gaze, Jack nodded.

'Yeah, it was,' he admitted quietly.

'You already told us as much,' Terry said.

'No, he didn't!' Lee protested. 'All he said was, "It was like . . . like . . .". Then he turned around and bolted!'

'Oh yeah, right.'

'What's going on?' Fred asked, joining in the conversation as he sat down in the desk in front of Jack. 'You guys seem really into your argument.'

'Just a little something that happened in gym class,' Jack muttered, avoiding the other teen's gaze.

'A _­little_ something!' Terry exclaimed, almost tearing his hair out now. 'Fred, man, you should have seen it!'

'Seen what?' Fred questioned interestedly. 'What happened?'

'Just bugger off,' Jack mumbled. 'It wasn't important.'

Fred paled slightly.

'This will affect the bet, won't it?' he inquired. 'And it's probably in Jack's favour.'

'Why would you say that?' Lee immediately asked.

'Well, firstly, you don't look very happy. Just . . . confused or something. Terry is practically pissing himself with joy. And Jack seems . . . flustered. It just—'

'Wait a minute,' Jack said, holding his hand up in the air, stopping Fred in mid-sentence. Something had just clicked in his head. 'Did you guys bet on me, too!'

Terry smiled mischievously.

'But I bet _for_ you, mate,' he said. 'Can't say the same for Freddy here though. He sided with Lee.'

'It's not that I don't have any faith in you, Jack,' Fred said quickly, catching the narrowed glares Jack was giving him. 'I just . . . I just thought that Ralph guy seemed a bit . . .'

'What? A bit what?' Jack demanded.

'Well, distant with you, really. You two knew each other before, and I guessed that you didn't separate on a good note or whatever . . . You two weren't exactly buddy-buddy when I saw you together.'

"Fuck! Why does Fred have to be so damn receptive of everything!"

'I need the cash, man!' Fred said earnestly, as if trying to justify his actions.

'Fine. Whatever,' Jack replied, just as the bell rang to signal the start of class. 'Do whatever you fucking want. I'll prove you wrong though, Fred—you and Lee both. I'll win him over in a week's time. I'll have him thoroughly fucked. I'm already getting on his good side, and it's only been a day's time!'

'But what will you do with him after the week's over?' Terry asked him quietly. 'Dump him just like you did all the others?'

Jack's automatic response to that should have been "yes", but his brain seemed to be malfunctioning.

'I don't know,' he responded instead. 'If he's a good fuck, I don't see why I should. Maybe I can stick around for a while, at least until I get bored with him. I'm the slut of the gang, remember, Ter? I'll know what's good.' His answer seemed so cold and heartless, but he was feeling quite the opposite from that. In truth, it was just a cover-up to save his rep. However, Terry's would-be innocent question got him thinking. What _would_ he do with Ralph after the week was up?

"There's time to think about that later," he mentally reassured himself. "I'll decide that when the time comes. In the meantime, I have the little meeting with Ralph after school to look forward to. Hehehe . . ."

-

_Ding dong_!

Ralph leapt up from his desk chair, jumped over a pile of clothes littering the ground, and hurried downstairs to open the front door, for his mother and father were at work and he was alone in the house.

'Jack!' he exclaimed in disbelief. 'What are you doing here?'

In reply, Jack waved a pile of papers in front of his face.

'Duh! The math assignment!' the other teen replied.

Ralph smacked himself on the head.

'Sorry, I completely forgot,' he said, stepping aside to let Jack enter the warmth of the house.

'You forgot!' Jack cried out, dumping his stuff on the floor. 'How could you forget? It was _your _idea to meet after school in the first place!' He was obviously in a very bad mood. His cheeks were pink from the winter cold and his hands were trembling, for he had no hat, scarf, or gloves. Also, his jacket was too small. Ralph vaguely wondered how Jack could afford to go to such a fine school, yet he was unable to afford some decent outdoor-wear.

'Look, I'm sorry,' Ralph muttered, closing the door and locking out the chill wind.

'Now you're sorry!' Jack scoffed. 'I was waiting in the library for over an hour!'

'Sorry!' Ralph said again. 'I was . . . distracted.'

'By what happened back in the gym?' Jack inquired, though he already knew the answer to that.

Ralph closed his eyes.

'You felt it, too?' he asked quietly.

'Mmm-hmm . . .' Jack replied, shrugging out of his coat and throwing it onto a nearby chair. 'I also felt . . . something else.'

The other teen's eyes bugged out slightly and he felt a hot blush creep up his cheeks.

'Yes, well, let's get work on this math assignment, shall we?' Ralph said brightly, trying to steer the topic of conversation off to a safer direction. 'Just bring your shit down the hall, to the kitchen. We'll work there. I'll just go up and get my stuff from my room.'

'Why don't we just work there?' Jack asked.

"Because I don't feel comfortable being alone with you in my bedroom after what happened in gym class," Ralph thought, but he obviously didn't tell his companion that.

'The light's better in the kitchen,' he replied lamely, and Jack shrugged. 'Okay, I'll be right back.' He bounded up the stairs to his room, where he promptly tripped over a pile of dirty clothes. 'Fuck!' he cursed.

'Hey, Ralph! Are you all right?' Jack called from downstairs. 'It sounded like an elephant just sat down.'

'I'm fine,' Ralph replied loudly, wondering why Jack had used that particular phrase. It wasn't exactly one that was commonly used. But then again, this was Jack Merridew!

Ralph hastily stood up and gathered his homework. Then he headed back downstairs, taking great care to avoid the mound of clothing and making a mental note to pick it up later. He gingerly limped down the steps and made his way to the kitchen, where Jack was waiting for him.

-

'Hey,' Jack greeted Ralph vaguely, not looking at him. His hand zoomed across the page as he hastily wrote his concluding sentence, trying to catch up with Ralph. Then again, it wasn't exactly _his_ fault he was so far behind with their workload.

As if Ralph read his thoughts, the former said, 'Sorry I didn't meet you in the library. If you want, I can help you out a bit with the work.'

'Tempting offer, but then you'd be doing more than I did,' Jack replied. Really, that wasn't the reason he was refusing. Who cared if Ralph did more work? No, really it was because he would feel inferior if he needed Ralph to take up on him like that.

'Are you sure? Because I feel kind of bad.'

'Forget about it. While I was at the library, I finished my essay for Mr. Penting, so I should be aight with this math shit. We still have another day, after all.'

'Suit yourself,' Ralph said, shrugging and sitting down beside Jack. He took out his math assignment and began to work.

-

An hour later, they were still going at it. If the 200-question math assignment had been something they actually _knew_ how to do, they probably would have been done long ago, but their stupid teacher had to assign something completely new to them, which resulted in a lot of looking up, erasing, and re-writing. Their pages were filledalmost top-to-bottom with smudge marks from their pencils.

'Is Mr. Piddy always like this?' Ralph asked grudgingly, erasing his entire answer and starting over.

'Always like what?'

'Does he always give such difficult work?'

'Actually, yeah,' Jack replied, 'but never this much. He's just trying to impress that evaluator by showing he doesn't take any crap from his students.'

'Evaluator? Was that that woman sitting at the back?'

'Uh-huh,' Jack said, smiling as he finally completed another question. 'He's just trying to hard to impress her. This is his first year at this school, so he isn't exactly used to being evaluated by someone from the School Board since they don't do that at every school hereabouts. He's usually a nice guy though, even if he _is _boring and difficult.'

'How is he a nice guy then?' Ralph questioned, flipping through the pages of his textbook for some idea of how to do the question.

'Firstly, he's an easy marker and gives a lot of pity marks. Everyone likes those kind of teachers,' Jack responded as he copied the next question onto his lined paper. 'Secondly, he sometimes gives us candy and stuff. You know, as inspiration or whatever. And thirdly, whenever he screws up, he always makes it up to us somehow.'

'What do you mean?'

'Like if he accidentally tells us to do the wrong questions,' Jack replied. 'Or even this assignment can be called a screw-up. As soon as the evaluator is gone, he'd probably give us chocolate or something for coming down so hard on us.'

'You really think so?' Ralph asked, setting his pencil down on the table to rest his aching hand for a while.

'It's a possibility,' Jack responded, shrugging. 'And it's all I really have to look forward to.'

"Liar!" his mind protested. "Don't you remember what the bet's about? Who can get Ralph to sleep with him first! How can you not look forward to th—"

"I know, I know," he mentally interrupted, wondering vaguely why he was arguing with himself.

Jack glanced over at Ralph, who had started working again. He was hunched over his page and writing furiously, his dark eyes darting over his textbook briefly before returning to his paper.

"My, but he has beautiful eyes," Jack thought involuntarily. "So dark, so mysterious . . ."

"Stop thinking about his eyes!" yelled that annoying voice in Jack's head. "He's just like any other of your . . . victims. Just fuck the kid and be done with it!"

"Okay, I gotcha . . . But his eyes are so—"

"STOP IT! Just treat Ralph like everyone else!"

"But he's _not_ like the everyone else! He's _not _like the others! He's different. He's Ralph, for fuck's sake!"

"Exactly, he's Ralph, so why are you thinking about him in this way?"

Jack couldn't find a reply to that, so he once again began to write.

-

_A few hours later . . ._

'Hey, Dad!' Ralph called from the kitchen, having heard the unmistakable humming of his father as the latter opened the front door. 'Can you help us with some of our math stuff over here!'

The humming stopped.

'Sorry, Ralph, I can't right now,' Mr. Macpherson replied, setting his briefcase down on the ground and kicking his shoes off. 'Ask your mother when she gets home.'

'But she's coming home late tonight!' Ralph protested. 'We need your help.'

'I'm sorry, sport, but I have business to attend to,' his father replied. He claimed his briefcase once more and headed upstairs.

'Big surprise,' Ralph muttered, shaking his head.

'Is he always this busy?' Jack asked quietly.

'Yeah,' Ralph replied. 'And his company makes us move around quite a bit. We never really stay in one place for too long.'

'Does that mean you might leave again?'

Ralph caught the earnest note in his companion's voice and vaguely wondered why it was there. Why would Jack care if he left?

'It's a definite possibility,' he responded. 'The longest we've ever stayed in one place was a year.'

"The year before the island incident," he thought.

'What's the shortest?' Jack inquired.

Ralph shrugged.

'I don't know . . . A month, maybe. Luckily, we hadn't completely unpacked by then.'

'A month!' Jack echoed, incredulous.

'Yeah. He gets moved around a lot, and he takes us with him because he doesn't want to leave us behind,' Ralph said, getting a clean sheet of paper out. 'I don't see why he bothers though. It's bloody annoying, and he never really spends time with us anyway. He's always gone before me and my mum wake up. When he comes home, he always goes straight to his office to work and is rarely seen until dinnertime. Sometimes we don't see him at all!'

'At least he's sober,' Jack mumbled, keeping his eyes locked on his paper.

'What?' Ralph asked.

'Never mind. Just forget it.'

The other teen shrugged.

'Whatever.'

'Hey, let's take a break for a bit,' Jack suggested. 'Let's go out and get a bite to eat or something.'

'Sure,' Ralph replied without hesitation. 'I'm famished.'

The two teens hastily gathered their books together and piled them neatly on the corner of the kitchen table.

'Come on,' Jack said, retrieving his coat and pulling it on. 'There's this great place I know of. It's called "Brown Cow".'

'Dare I ask why?' Ralph inquired amusedly, slipping his shoes on.

'Well, mainly because their specialties are milkshakes,' Jack replied, stepping into his shoes. 'But they serve burgers and pizza and stuff, too.'

'Sounds great. Let's go,' Ralph grabbed his house key from its hook beside the door, knowing that his father would probably be too busy to open it for him. 'Bye, Dad!' he yelled up the stairs. 'I'm going out for a bit!'

There was no reply.

Frowning slightly, Ralph followed Jack out the door and pulled it shut behind him.


	7. How Now Brown Cow?

**(07) How Now Brown Cow?**

'This is it!' Jack said proudly, holding the door open for Ralph to walk in.

Ralph was slightly taken back by how . . . brown everything was. The little restaurant was fashioned in a '50s sort of style, with brown-and-white checkered tiles on the floor and big, comfy booths for people to sit in. And everything from the disposable cups to the animated posters on the walls had brown cows on them! Jack actually _liked_ this queer café!

'Interesting place,' Ralph muttered sardonically.

'Yeah, me and my friends come here a lot,' Jack said, missing the sarcastic tone in the other teen's voice. 'Um . . . speaking of which . . .'

'Oy, Jack!' someone called to him from a faraway corner.

Ralph turned to see none other than Lee and Terry waving Jack over. With them sat two other people that Ralph didn't know.

'Hey, guys!' Jack replied happily.

Before Ralph could protest, Jack had taken his hand and was practically dragging him over to the table, which was (unsurprisingly) brown.

'I'd like you to meet a few of my friends, Ralph,' Jack said, releasing the other's hand. 'You already know Lee and Terry. This is John, and that over there is Fred.'

'Hi,' Ralph said nervously, well aware of the intense looks the four teens were giving him.

'Here, you guys can sit with us,' Lee said, shifting over to make some room in the large, round booth. 'There's plenty of space.'

'Actually, we just came for a quick bite to eat,' Ralph replied apologetically. 'We still have to finish our math ass—'

'We can stay for a bit,' Jack interrupted smoothly, sitting down beside his friend.

Ralph rolled his eyes and he, too, sat down.

'Hi, guys!' said a happy, bubbly voice, and a redheaded waitress came over to their table. 'Hi, Fred,' she added as she handed a (brown) menu to both Ralph and Jack. 'Er . . . Our specials today are the Brown Cow Milkshake, the Farmer's Burger, and the Po-Po-Potatoes!' She grinned happily. 'Just wave me over when you're ready to order, okay?' She was about to leave, but then she turned back around and added, 'By the way, Fred, your order may take a bit longer to bring over than the others.'

'Okay,' Fred replied. 'No problem. Thanks, Wendy.'

'Just how often do you guys come here?' Ralph asked quietly once the waitress had gone.

'Almost every week,' John responded. 'The food's great, even if the atmosphere looks like crap.' He shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Ralph nodded absentmindedly and began to flip through the menu.

-

Meanwhile, Jack and Lee were hunched together behind Jack's menu, having a whispered conversation.

'So how are things going?' Lee asked nervously, thinking this may result in another losing bet for him.

'They're getting better,' Jack replied. 'He no longer hates my guts, anyway.'

'But you're not there yet,' Lee said gleefully, punching his friend in the shoulder. 'You still got some ways to go, man.'

'This is only Day 2 and I'm already on his good side,' Jack reminded him. 'I still have 5 days left man.' He didn't mention to Lee _why_ Ralph was suddenly warming up to him. He didn't care to repeat his dream about the island to anyone, especially not Lee.

'Sure, you're on his good side,' Lee echoed. 'And you can probably win him over completely in another day or two, but how long will it take you to get into his trousers, boy?'

Yes, how long indeed. Suddenly, 5 days didn't seem like half as much time as Jack would need to "get into his trousers".

'I'll manage it,' Jack said in a would-be confident voice. '5 days left, remember, buddy?'

Lee smirked.

'You can't fool me, Jack. This kid ain't like the others, who would probably run naked through the parking lot if you ask them to. They know you're a good fuck because of your reputation. But Ralph, he's different. It isn't just a good fuck he wants. He's a hard nut to crack, man.'

'Just give me time, Lee,' Jack said. 'I'll manage it. I have to. My reputation is at stake.'

'One that I would very much like to see destroyed.' Lee grinned wickedly.

'Ha!' Jack scoffed. 'Like that would ever happen! One look at any of the guys I slept with and they'll just come running back to me, begging me for more. You know that's true.'

'Yeah, I know, slut.'

'Loser.'

'Whore.'

'Bastard.'

'Trollop.'

'Asshole.'

'Hooker.'

'Fag.'

'Bitch.'

'Jackass.'

'Fucker.'

The two teens smiled and finally stopped their playful insults, knowing that they could go on forever. Although they didn't act like it, they were the best of friends and had known each other longer than they had known the others. Their friendship was very . . . unique, and nothing had ever broken them apart thus far because of its uniqueness.

'Okay, guys, here's your food,' Wendy said in her high-pitched voice, snapping the bubblegum in her mouth. She set her tray down on the table and distributed the orders to John, Lee, and Terry (who had two), before she turned to Ralph and Jack. 'Are y'all ready to order?' she asked, taking out a small pad of paper and a pencil.

'I think I'll try a Farmer Burger,' Ralph replied.

'Same here,' Jack said.

'Okay, do you want any fries with that? Or any drinks?'

'I'll have some Coke,' Ralph said, 'but no fries for me, thanks.'

'I'll have fries,' Jack responded, 'and a Sprite.'

'Gotcha,' Wendy said, adding the new items with a flourish. 'I'll be right back.' Then she happily skipped away.

'Now there's one chick who really likes her job,' Fred muttered under his breath.

Lee rolled his eyes dramatically.

'Fred, just ask her out already. You've practically been stalking her since she started work here a few months ago, so just go for it!'

'But what if she rejects me?' Fred asked quietly.

'Then oh well,' Lee replied unsympathetically.

'Don't listen to Lee, Fred,' John said. 'She's got the hots for you, too. You have nothing to worry about.'

'Fine, fine,' Lee said in a bored tone. 'But even if she _doesn't_, then I'm sure Jacko here can find you a hot date.'

'But I'm straight!' Fred protested. 'All the people Jack goes after are guys, and they only like him because—'

'Ahem!' Jack cleared his throat loudly, glaring at Fred and glancing pointedly at Ralph.

'—because he's fun to be with,' Fred said, obviously changing from his original sentence of "because they want a good fuck". 'I mean, I'm pretty boring compared to Jack over here,' he added.

The last phrase seemed unnecessary and slightly hinted towards Jack's reputation, but Ralph seemed unperturbed.

"Maybe he hasn't heard of my reputation yet," Jack thought, relieved. "Yes! That will make my job a lot easier! Hehehe . . ."

-

Ralph sat nervously with Jack and his friends, feeling like an outcast.

'So . . .' he said, fidgeting with a button on his shirt. 'What do you guys do around here for fun?'

The teens smiled and all of them looked expectedly at Jack.

'What?' the latter asked, for he evidently hadn't heard Ralph.

'Well, Jack, Ralph here wants to know what you do for fun,' Lee informed him with an evil glint in his eye.

'Yes, Jack,' Fred said. 'Do tell.'

'Am I missing something here?' Ralph inquired, glancing at each of their faces. They all looked like they were on the verge of laughing.

'Well, we . . . sometimes . . . go to the . . . movies!' Jack replied, keeping his face stony and avoiding the others' gazes. 'Or sometimes we just . . . hang out at . . . the mall . . . or something . . . um . . . or we . . . go clubbing if we can get a few partners.'

Ralph mentally noted how Jack said "partners" and not "girls", meaning his partner could be either or. For some reason, he felt slightly queasy imagining his companion with other guys.

'Hey, you should come clubbing with us one day!' Fred suggested unexpectedly. 'It's loads of fun, and the place we go to rocks!'

'Maybe,' Ralph shrugged. 'I'm not really into dancing and stuff though.'

'Hell, that place has tons of other stuff to do,' John reassured him. 'It is more of a large bar than a club. You can play pool or sit by the bar, where they'll serve you alcoholic drinks even if you're underage.'

So Ralph would be stuck with five drunken, underage teenagers. Some reassurance _that _was!

'Come on, Ralph,' Jack put in. 'You have to come with us. You'll have fun!'

"Well, I only live once."

'Sure,' Ralph replied. 'Count me in. When's the next time you're going to this place?'

'Um . . . I think we're scheduled to go to Pubsy's—' (Pubsy's? This so-called "cool" place was called _Pubsy's_!) '—tomorrow!' John responded.

'Tomorrow?' Ralph echoed.

'Why? Is it a bad time?'

'I don't know, actually,' Ralph replied. 'I'll have to get back to you later on that.'

'Whatever,' Lee shrugged. 'Just tell one of us at school or something so we'll know.'

'No problem.'

'I'm back!' Wendy said, suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

The six teens jumped in shock, but they quickly settled down once more.

'Your hair is very nice today, Wendy,' Fred said. 'I like it when you put it up.'

Wendy absentmindedly twisted the end of her ponytail around her finger.

'Th-thank you,' she stuttered. Regaining her composure, she one-handedly set her tray down on the table and gave Fred, Ralph, and Jack their meals.

'Thanks,' the two boys responded in unison.

'You're welcome,' she said, looking at Fred. 'Well, I . . . I think I have to go now.' She started to skip away.

'Wait!' Fred called after her.

Wendy turned around.

'Yeah?'

'I was wondering, Wendy . . . would you like to come with me to Pubsy's tomorrow night?'

'You?' she inquired.

'Of course, it will be okay if you don't,' Fred said quickly, feeling extremely flustered now.

'Oh, no, no, it's not that . . . I was just wondering when you were finally going to ask me out.'

Fred's face turned crimson, and his friends gave him lopsided grins.

'Sure I'll go with you, Fred,' Wendy said. 'But I have to work tomorrow after school. So would you mind picking me up from here . . . um, alone?'

'Wh-what time?' Fred stammered, as if this were too good to be true.

'Around 7:00, I guess,' she shrugged.

'No problem.'

'Okay,' she said, smiling, 'see you then.' Then she walked away, ponytail bouncing happily.

'I told you that you had nothing to worry about,' John whispered to Fred.

'Gosh, Fred,' Terry said, 'your face looks like the setting sun.'

'Yeah, well, yours probably would too if you had to ask somebody out in front of all your friends,' Fred replied.

'You've got a point there, Fred,' Lee said. Then he put on a high-pitched voice. 'Oh, Fred, I was wondering when you were finally going to ask me out . . . Can you pick me up here tomorrow . . . alone?' As he said that, Lee added a sensual tone to his voice and his hand crept onto Fred's.

'Shut up, Lee!' Fred snapped, snatching his hand away.

The other teens (including Ralph) burst out into fits of hysterical laughter.

'Shut up!' Fred said again, his face deepening a shade.

'Sorry, Fred,' Ralph said, between giggles.

His companion just scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

-

An hour later, Jack and Ralph returned to the latter's house. They had stayed at Brown Cow longer than they originally intended, but they had a blast!

'So, what do you think of my friends?' Jack asked once they had entered the house.

'They're funny,' Ralph replied shortly, and he said nothing else.

The two teens quickly relieved themselves of their coats and shoes. Then they hurried back to the kitchen table to continue with their work.

'Here,' Ralph said, dropping a small pile of papers in front of Jack. 'These are yours.'

Jack let out a whistle of faint disbelief.

'Odd. It seems much smaller than when we left. Did I really do so little work?'

'Don't call it a little work,' Ralph snapped, sorting through the books for his own assignment. 'The answers end up being pretty short, but it takes a lot of effort to figure them out.'

They took out their pencils and began to write.

The two boys had only been working for a short while when Ralph suddenly put his pencil down.

'What? Don't tell me your hand's tired already!' Jack exclaimed, evidently surprised.

'No, it's just . . . Jack, are you gay?'

The question stunned Jack, for it had been the last thing he expected Ralph to say . . . at least at that present moment.

'No,' he replied truthfully.

'What about all that stuff your friends were saying?' Ralph asked, obviously taken back by Jack's response.

'I'm not gay, I'm bi,' Jack said, furiously erasing something on his sheet. 'Why? You got a problem with that, Macpherson!'

'No!' Ralph said quickly. 'It's just . . . I haven't seen you in so long and you've . . . changed a lot, that's all.'

'No kidding,' Jack muttered. 'It's been a lot of friggin' _years_ since we last met.'

'Yeah,' his companion replied. 'I just realized how little I know about you now, and I want to get to know you better.'

Jack's hand paused.

'What do you want to know?'

'I dunno,' Ralph shrugged, taking up his pencil and continuing with his work. 'What's your family like? Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

'You don't want to know about my family,' Jack murmured confidently, keeping his head down.

'Why not?'

'You just . . . don't, okay!' Jack snapped, blood boiling.

'Sorry,' Ralph whispered, knowing that this was a touchy topic for Jack.

'No, wait, _I_ should be the one who's sorry, Ralph,' Jack responded sincerely, suddenly remembering the bet and how he was supposed to seduce Ralph. Arguing with him wasn't exactly helping. 'I'll tell you whatever the fuck you want, but I don't think you're going to like it. I know I don't.'

'You don't have to tell me just because I asked.'

'But I want to now,' Jack replied, thinking maybe he could win Ralph's sympathy.

Ralph looked upon him with rapt attention.

'Well, my mom . . .' Jack began, 'she's very . . . she doesn't like it when I get into trouble. She's a fucking control freak or something! She's always yelling and screaming, saying that I'm not doing good enough in school or whatever and that I could do better. My dad hardly even knows I exist. He's always fucked up from drinking too much beer and shit. When I go home, he usually has the tendency to . . . beat me,' Jack said quietly.

Ralph looked shock, but he kept his opinions of that to himself, and Jack vaguely wondered if his plan was working, if he had Ralph's sympathy.

'Do you have any siblings?' Ralph asked him.

'I had a brother.'

'Had?'

'He died . . . in a motorbike accident.' All the stuff Jack was telling was actually the truth, so he needn't have worried about his bluff being called.

'Well, my dad,' Ralph began, 'you saw how he is. He's always so busy, too busy to spend some time with me. My mum tries to make it up to me, but she can't . . . not really. Her and my dad argue a lot about his job, you know. She's so pissed off by the fact that we have to keep moving. She's tried to tell him to just leave us in one place and _he_ can come visit us, but he doesn't want to leave us behind. It doesn't make sense, really, because he never spends any time with us anyway.'

'Maybe after what happened on the island, he wants to make sure you'll be all right,' Jack suggested. 'Maybe he's just comforted by the fact that you're near to him, that he can try to prevent bad things from happening to you.'

'Maybe. It fucking his family's life up, but hey, who cares? We're near him!' Ralph said sarcastically.

Jack look quite put down, and there was a very awkward silence, in which both boys tried to gather their thoughts.

'Well,' Ralph said, clearing his throat. 'We better get working.'

Their conversation was soon forgotten, locked away in the back of their minds for future contemplation. At the present, however, they got back to work.


	8. Day 3

**(08) Day 3**

_Ding dong_!

The doorbell rang just as Ralph was about to leave his house, and he opened it almost immediately.

'Hey, Jack,' he said, hiding his surprise at finding the teen standing outside his front door. 'What are you doing here?'

'I just thought maybe you'd like a bit of company,' Jack said, smiling.

Ralph smiled back, rather enjoying the doting attention the other was giving him. Jack had stayed at his house until late into the night, but Ralph had a funny feeling that Jack's attention was more focused on _him_ than it was on their math assignment. The concept was both thrilling and nauseating.

'Well, I was just leaving the house,' Ralph said. 'You came at the perfect time.'

For some reason, Jack suddenly chuckled, but he did not care to explain the source of his amusement.

Ralph just shook his head and led the way down the street to the bus stop.

'Hey,' he began, noticing the other teen's pale, trembling hands, 'I don't mean to be rude, but something's been bothering me for a while.'

'Go on,' Jack prompted, obviously wondering where this conversation was leading. 'Are you going to chastise me for skipping equipment duty again? Because if you are, don't waste your breath.'

'No, it's not that,' Ralph said quickly. 'It's just . . . how can your parents afford to send you to this private school, but you don't have any . . . decent winter clothes.'

Jack blushed and glanced down at his too-small jacket.

'Well, my mother is the one who wanted me to come here for a good education and shit,' Jack explained. 'My father doesn't give a fuck. He's too drunk most of the time to even know he's alive, let alone remember that I am. I bought this jacket with my own money a few years ago, and I can easily afford a new one, as well as some gloves and hat, if that's what you're wondering.'

'But . . .?'

'But winter's almost over,' Jack shrugged. 'It seems a waste to buy them now.'

'I see . . .' Ralph said slowly, hitching his bag up. 'Where do you get all your money from?'

'Huh?'

'Well, you said that you bought that coat yourself. So . . . what? Do you get an allowance? Do you have a part-time job? What?'

'Why the sudden interest in my life?' Jack asked, suspicion dripping in his voice.

'No reason,' Ralph replied honestly. 'Just wondering.'

'Well, I don't have an allowance or a job. I just earn money by . . . winning bets.'

'Bets?' Ralph echoed, surprised.

'Yeah,' Jack responded. 'Lee, the "gambler" of the group, is always betting against me. His bets are usually high and he usually loses . . . You're a smart dude. You can figure out the rest.'

'What do you guys bet on?'

Jack gave him a sharp look.

'Just . . . stuff,' he replied hesitantly.

Ralph was about to ask what kind of stuff, but just then, the bus came.

-

Jack sighed in relief and stepped aboard the yellow school bus. He wouldn't have liked to keep up _that_ conversation for very long. Obviously, Ralph hadn't heard of his slut reputation yet, and he wasn't exactly eager to tell the other teen of it. It might ruin their chances of getting together.

Ralph chose a seat near the back of the bus, and when Jack sat beside him, he didn't argue.

'I was just wondering, Jack,' Ralph said, and the latter sighed.

'You know, now I'm starting to feel nervous whenever you begin a sentence like that,' Jack muttered.

Ralph laughed.

'No, it's nothing embarrassing this time. Not for you, anyway.' He straightened his collar unnecessarily. 'It's just . . . I was wondering if your offer was still open.'

'What offer?'

'For the locker.' Ralph swallowed. 'It's only been two days and I'm already sick and tired of hauling my books around, so—'

'The offer's still open,' Jack replied quickly, interrupting Ralph in mid-sentence.

"If you actually want to share a locker with the person who tried to kill you," he thought unpleasantly, though he knew better than to speak this aloud.

'Oh, okay, good. I'd like to take up on it then. What's your locker number and combo?'

'It's number 264 on the second floor. The combination is 16-45-39.'

'264 on the second floor, 16-45-39,' Ralph repeated, easily memorizing the information. 'I guess I'll just put my stuff there before lunch then.'

'You can put your stuff in there as soon as we get to school, if you want,' Jack told him boldly.

'Okay, great. I'll do that then.'

Jack smiled satisfactorily and absentmindedly tightened his hold on his books.

"This is too easy . . ."

-

Jack stepped off the bus and waved goodbye to Ralph, who was going to go to the locker to put his books away.

'I'll see you later,' the former called after Ralph's departing back before going off to join his friends, but something—or rather, some_one_—stopped him.

'And just where do you think you're going?' Mr. Lyori asked him, and he felt his blood turn cold.

'T-to my friends,' Jack stuttered, pointing lamely at the four teens waving frantically at him.

'I don't think so,' Mr. Lyori said coldly. 'You missed your detention yesterday, Mr. Merridew.'

'What deten—? Ohh . . .' Jack realized suddenly.

'Yes, now he remembers!' the teacher said sarcastically. 'The good-for-nothing teenager finally recalls that he had a detention yesterday.' Mr. Lyori sneered. 'Because of your absence, you will serve an extra hour tonight.'

"That's not so bad."

'Plus, you are to come to my classroom today at lunchtime today,' he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. 'Luckily for you, I do not have duty today.'

"Lucky, ha!"

'Yes, sir,' Jack murmured miserably, watching Mr. Lyori walk away.

His friends, who had seen (from a distance) the brief exchange between Jack and the professor, immediately came over to him.

'What's up?' Terry inquired, seeing the depressed look on Jack's face.

'I have to serve an extra hour of detention today,' Jack whined.

'That's okay,' Fred reassured him. 'You'll still get out in time to go clubbing with us.'

'I guess, but it's not fair!' Jack exclaimed. 'Why does Lyori have to hate me so fucking much!'

'Don't take it personally, bud. He hates the whole student body,' Lee reminded him. 'The Lord only knows why that man became a teacher.'

'He likes to torture people,' John suggested. 'Ah, who gives a shit about ol' Lyori anyway? At least we're not in any of his classes this semester.'

'Yet he still has the power to make our lives a living hell,' Jack murmured.

'Aw, forget him, Jack. You have better things to think about . . .'

'Speaking of which,' Lee began, 'how did it go yesterday?'

'I'm almost there,' Jack replied, feeling slightly happier now that the subject of their conversation had changed.

'Are you?' Lee inquired, apparently put out, for that wasn't exactly what he had wanted to hear.

'Yeah,' Jack said, draping his arm over his friend's shoulder. 'I reckon a few more days ought to do it.'

'They had better,' John warned him. 'That's all you have left.'

'I have 5 days if you include today, John,' Jack said smoothly. 'That's plenty of time.'

"Sure, for every other kid in school, but _not_ for Ralph!" his mind pointed out. 'There's no way he'll sleep with you! You're lucky to have gotten this far with him."

"Be happy with what you got, Jack," another voice chimed in, "because friendship is all you're going to get from him. And I'm not talking about friendship with advantages."

'You can do it, Jack,' Terry said, and he coughed softly. 'Excuse the pun.'

John shook his head in vague amusement.

'I have confidence in you, too, Jack,' he said, smiling.

"Too bad I don't have that much confidence in myself."

-

Lee looked over at Jack, noticing the happy—though slightly confused—look on his face. He had known Jack long enough to realize that whatever Jack wanted, he got. And right now, what he wanted was Ralph.

"He might actually pull this off," Lee thought miserably. "He'll win the bet and I'll lose my new TV. Crap. I have to do something to stop him, to throw him off somehow." An idea suddenly entered Lee's mind, and he was both shocked and gleeful from the simplicity of it. "Of course! Duh! The best way to mess this up for him is sabotage! I just need the right guys to help me."

Lee discreetly looked about the front yard of the school for someone who could help him . . .

There! An old "friend" of Jack's that he probably wouldn't be wanting to see so soon after their breakup. An attractive young man with long, silver-blond hair tied back in a loose ponytail. And there, too! Another of Jack's exes (a rather physically fit, redheaded teen who was on the school soccer team) was standing by the outdoor drinking fountain. Those two would be perfect!

"Excellent."

'I'll catch up with you guys later,' Lee told his friends before making his way over to the redhead first. 'Hey, Eddy,' he greeted.

'Hey, Lee,' the other replied in a deep voice. 'Sup?'

'Oh, nothing much,' Lee responded in a drawling voice. 'It's just that the big bet with Jack is almost over and I think I chose the losing side . . . again.'

'You chose the losing side?' Eddy echoed, his eyes widening in fear. 'But . . . no! I chose the same side you did! I voted against Jack, too!'

'Don't overreact,' Lee told him. 'Look, I think there's a way we can both be happy.'

'We'll win the bet?'

'Exactly.'

'And how do you propose we do that?' Eddy asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Well, you're quite an attractive fellow, Eddy . . .' Lee said. 'You know who Ralph is, don't you?'

'I think so,' the other teen responded. 'Why?'

'I have a proposition for you that will make us both prosper.'

'I'm listening.'

'I want you to seduce Ralph away from Jack.'

'Oh? What's in it for me?'

'You'll win the bet,' Lee reminded him.

'But what do I get from _you_?' Eddy asked. 'If you want me to do this, you'll have to give me something.'

'Well, the thing is, the only notable thing I get from winning the bet is the lovely prospect that I have finally beaten Jack . . . That and complete humiliation on Jack's part.' Lee drew in an excited breath. 'He has to come to school wearing _nothing_ but a shower cap and bathrobe and ask Mr. Lyori where his mother is because they have a date.'

Eddy let out a roaring laugh.

'You have a queer mind, man, but I would pay big bucks to see that.'

'You wouldn't have to. Just get Ralph away from Jack.'

'Will do,' Eddy said, giving Lee a mock salute. 'Seeing Jack humiliated like that is payment enough for me. I'll do it!'

'Excellent,' Lee replied, grinning evilly. 'We'll be at Pubsy's tonight, so you can come on by then. Ralph should be coming, too!'

'Great, but just to let you know, I'm not doing this for you,' Eddy told him. 'I just want to get Jack back for treating me the way he did. That stupid bastard deserves what's coming to him. I want to see him suffer as I did!'

'You and me both, pal,' Lee murmured, walking away and wondering when Eddy had become so melodramatic. He shook his head amusedly and began to walk away.

'By the way, Lee,' Eddy called after him, 'don't use this fountain. I tapped it so that it would spray the next person who touches it. I'm just waiting for some freshmen to come by so that I can offer them a drink.'

'Thanks for the warning,' Lee called back, before he went over to the other boy he had seen—the one who was Jack's last "friend". 'Hi, Joe,' he said, smiling.

Joe looked up at him.

'Hey. What brings you to my turf?'

'I have a proposition for you.' And then Lee told Joe the same things he had told Eddy, except for one minor detail.

'Let me get this straight,' Joe said. 'You want _me_ to seduce Jack away from Ralph!'

'Yeah, do you have a problem with that?' Lee inquired.

'No, no, it's not that,' Joe replied quickly. He paused for a moment to tuck a stray strand of silver hair behind his ear, then, 'Okay, yes, it _is_ that. I don't think I can do it, Lee. Jack just dumped me a few days ago.'

'So? Who says you can't get him back? The sooner, the better!'

'Fine, then what do I get out of it?'

'I don't know, Lee said unconvincingly. 'If you manage to seduce Jack, who knows? You might just be able to get him back. It's what you want, isn't it?'

'It's what every guy wants,' Joe said, blushing. 'Okay, Lee, you got yourself a deal! It might take some time, though. I have to get Ralph out of the way.'

'Don't worry about that,' Lee said told him. 'I've already taken care of that. Eddy will leave your way free to Jack.'

'Eddy? Why did you choose Eddy?'

'Look at him,' Lee said, indicating the fiery-haired teen reclining by the fountain. 'Who can resist a hot thing like that?'

'You've got a point there.'

Lee grinned.

'Go to Pubsy's. He'll be there tonight . . . You know, Joe, you're pretty hot, too, so there's no way he'll be able to resist you.'

'He already proved that he can,' Joe murmured miserably.

'You just have to work your stuff,' Lee said. 'Flaunt what your mama gave ya. It'll all be worth it in the end.'

'He won't be able to resist me, not tonight he won't,' Joe said with growing confidence.

'That's the spirit! I'll see you there then,' Lee said, already walking away.

'Will you be there to?' Joe called after him. 'You know, in case I need a little pep talk or something.'

'I'll be there!' Lee reassured his friend. 'You can count on it.'

Just then, the first bell rang to signal the five-minute interlude before first period began. Lee practically skipped his way to his locker, happy that things were working out so well. He had done all he could. Now it was up to Eddy and Joe to complete the sabotage and help him win the bet. Perfect. He had complete confidence that they would be able to seduce Ralph and Jack away from each other! Speaking of ol' Ralph . . .

'What are you doing here?' Lee asked him, surprised to see that Ralph was piling his books into Jack's locker.

'Jack offered to share his locker with me,' Ralph replied.

'Oh, that's great,' Lee said. Not really knowing what else to say, he undid his lock, taking as much time as possible. 'So . . . are you coming to Pubsy's tonight?' he questioned, remembered his word to Eddy that Ralph would be there.

'Pubsy's? Oh . . .' Ralph began, and Lee held his breath. 'I'll be there.'

The latter let out a small sigh of relief as he began to throw his shit into his locker.

'But the thing is, I don't exactly know where it is,' Ralph said.

'Hey, don't worry about that,' Lee reassured him. 'I invited a few of our other friends to come with us. If you want, I can send one of them round your house to pick you up.' There was no way he was going to get Jack to pick up Ralph. His friend was too close to winning the bet than he'd have liked for him to risk it.

'Oh, great,' Ralph replied. He hastily ripped some paper from his binder and took out his pen. 'This is where I live,' he said, sloppily scrawling his address onto the piece of paper.

Lee took the paper and pocketed it.

'I'll have Eddy pick you up around 7 then,' he said, making a mental note to tell Eddy about this slight addition to their plans.

'Great. Thanks, Lee,' Ralph said, slamming his locker shut and picking up his bag. 'I have to go now. I'll talk to you later.'

'Right. I'll see you in gym then . . . erm, if I don't skip class today, though I'll surely see you later tonight if I do,' Lee responded, watching the teen making his way through the crowded corridors to his first class. 'Definitely,' he muttered to himself. 'I wouldn't miss tonight for the world!'


	9. Just Another Day

**(09) Just Another Day**

'Hey, Ray!' Jack called for the boy, running to catch up with him. Jack was alone, for he and his friends had just gone their separate ways.

'Hey,' Ray replied. 'What's up?'

'I was just about to ask the same of you,' Jack said. 'I just wanted to know how far you got with Ralph.'

'I'm getting there, mate,' Ray said over-confidently. 'I'll have that little bunny in my bed soon enough. Just give me two days' time.'

'Fine. Whatever,' Jack said, wondering why his companion wasn't taking advantage of the _five_ days' time they still had. 'Do whatever you want.'

'What about you? How face have you gotten?'

'Not too far,' Jack honestly admitted. 'We're just friends.'

'What!' Ray exclaimed, staggering back slightly in surprise.

'You don't have to rub it in,' Jack murmured. 'Actually, being friends is a big step from where we started off from.'

"And it was all because of a little dream," he thought, not really knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

'That's good for you,' Ray replied indifferently. 'And don't worry. I'll be sure to tell you how great a shag Ralph was when I'm through.'

Jack just rolled his eyes and, without even a goodbye, began to walk away. But new questions entered his mind before he had gone five paces: When did Ray ever find the time to seduce Ralph? They only saw each other at lunchtimes, so how could he be so supremely confident that he was going to win? Ray and Jack had a maximum of one week to seduce Ralph into their beds. Yet if Ray could do so in less time than that, why wasn't he? It was clear to Jack that Ray had wanted Ralph from Day One, so why was he biding his time and not acting on that interest?

With those confusing thoughts still in mind, Jack turned around to ask the other teen his questions, but Ray had mysteriously vanished. Jack frowned, but soon shrugged it off.

"Oh well. It will make my job easier if Ray stalls," Jack thought, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his heart. "It's just nerves," he reassured himself, continuing his walk down the hallway. "It's not because Ray just suddenly disappeared. I mean, the corridor is pretty crowded and it's easy to get lost in it. I'm probably just nervous about what he said, that he would win the bet."

"And you have reason to be," said another voice in his head. "Ralph likes him so much more than he likes you. Just because you two are friends now doesn't automatically put you on the level labeled 'fuck buddies', too."

"But Ralph might not even know that Ray is interested in him," reasoned yet another voice. "That kid is pretty strange. If he disappears for a couple of days, without hide nor hair of him being noticed, there's no way Ralph could still be interested in him."

"'Still'? There's a 'still' in there? That implies that Ralph _was_ interested in him."

"But it doesn't mean that he is now!"

"Why wouldn't he be? If he hasn't seen Ray for a while, all he'll remember are the Aussie's good points."

"But—"

"JUST SHUT UP!" Jack's conscious mind screamed, drowning out the other voices. His head was reeling with his inner arguments about Ralph and Ray, yet a few questions seemed to stand out more than others did. Was Ralph interested in Ray? Did he really like the Aussie better than he liked Jack? But most importantly, would he _act_ on that interest?

A disturbing image of Ray leading a "birthday suit"-clad Ralph to a large, fluffy bed suddenly appeared in Jack's mind. He shook his head furiously in disgust and just managed to prevent himself from puking. It came of a nice relief to him when the second bell rang, blaring in his ears and effectively getting rid of the mental pictures in his head.

"What the? The second bell already?" Jack wondered. And then he smacked his head in sudden realization. "Oh, FUCK! I'm late!" He took off down the hallway at a full-out run and didn't stop until he reached his math classroom, where he skidded to a halt just outside the door. He frantically wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to quiet his hoarse breaths before he entered the room.

The class, which had been filled with quiet murmuring just moments before, brusquely fell silent at his arrival.

'You're late,' Mr. Piddy said disapprovingly, not looking up from his work.

'Yes, I know, sir,' Jack replied. 'Sorry, sir.'

'Lateness is something I cannot tolerate, Mr. Merridew,' Mr. Piddy said. 'Therefore, I want you to work beside my desk today. You are to do this assignment alone.'

'Alone?' Jack squeaked, abruptly dropping his books. 'But, sir,' he protested, 'Ralph is my partner. It's not right to punish him if _he_ was on time!'

'You are quite right,' Mr. Piddy murmured, setting down his red marking pen and glancing over at Jack. 'Very well. You two shall work together on this assignment. But _you_, Mr. Merridew, shall do a second assignment for me . . . alone! I shall give it to you by the end of class, and it is to be done over the course of your weekend.'

'Yes, sir,' Jack muttered. With a lowered head, he gathered his books up and made his way to his seat at the back of the classroom, where the evaluator was once again sitting.

'I was wondering when you were going to show up,' Ralph whispered, breaking the still silence of the class.

As if on cue, the rest of the class continued their conversations in hushed tones, as if the interruption had never occurred.

'Sorry,' Jack replied, slumping down onto his chair. 'I finished the rest of my half last night, but I'm not sure if they're right.'

'That's okay,' Ralph said. 'I'm not sure if mine are either.'

The two teens swapped their work and began to copy the answers down onto clean sheets of paper. They worked in silence for a while, only speaking to correct the other's mistake or else ask what a sloppy letter or number was. Meanwhile, their time slowly ticked away . . .

-

After some time passed, Ralph's hand grew immensely tired and he desperately needed a break.

'I'll be back,' he murmured to Jack, making his way to the front of the room, where Mr. Piddy regarded him suspiciously.

'Yes, Mr. Macpherson?' he asked politely, but he seemed slightly irked that Ralph would dare to approach him during their work period.

'Um . . . May I please use the restroom, sir?'

'Very well. But be no longer than five minutes!' Mr. Piddy said.

'Yes, sir. Of course.' Ralph quickly exited the classroom and casually strolled down the hallway, not in any real hurry. He hadn't really had to use the lavatory, of course. He had just used that as an excuse to escape class for a while.

'Ralph?' a quiet voice inquired.

Ralph whipped his head around.

'Hey, Ray,' he replied. 'What are you doing out of class?'

'I had to run an errand for my teacher,' the other teen replied. 'I was just heading back now.'

'Oh, well, while you're out here, care to take a short walk with me?' Ralph asked.

'Sure. But what are _you_ doing out of class?' Ray questioned him suspiciously.

'I needed a break. Math is such a bore.'

'Yeah? So was lunchtime yesterday,' Ray said bitterly. 'I can't believe you bailed on me to go to the library with Jack Merridew.'

Ralph sighed.

'I already told you, I didn't want to. I _had_ to! We had . . . er, have this stupid math assignment thing to do. Our professor's crazy, man. He expects us to complete 200 questions' worth of new material in the course of two days!'

'New material?' Ray asked, confused.

'It's part of the assignment,' Ralph muttered. 'We have to figure out how to do it.'

'Really? That sucks.'

'Majorly . . .'

'You said two days, right?'

'Yeah . . .' Ralph replied slowly.

'So will you be able to spend the whole lunchtime with me today?' Ray questioned. 'I have something I need to show you. It's really cool!'

'I'm free today,' Ralph said. 'I'll meet you in the caf at the usual time then. But I might be a bit late.'

'Why?'

'I just have to make a quick stop at my locker to get rid of all my shit.'

'But . . . you don't have a locker.'

'I do now,' Ralph said, not thinking it wise to mention that it was Jack's locker he was using.

Ray checked his wristwatch for the time.

'Oh, fuck. Hey, listen, Ralph, I have to go, but I'll catch up with you later, k?' He leaned over and gave Ralph a quick peck on the cheek. 'Bye.'

'Bye,' Ralph murmured in embarrassment, reaching up to touch the part of his cheek that Ray had kissed. 'I'll-I'll see ya later.'

-

Meanwhile, Jack was relentlessly copying down Ralph's answers, his hand feeling quite cramped from the strenuous work.

"I wonder where Ralph is," he thought, erasing a few lead smudges from his page. "He's been gone for a while now."

Just then, Ralph re-entered the room, looking rather happy about something.

'Hey,' Jack greeted him when he sat down once more. 'What's with the look?'

'What look?' Ralph asked obliviously, taking up his pencil.

'You're smiling.'

'I'm not smiling,' Ralph said, still smiling.

'Yes, you are. What happened?'

'I just saw Ray.'  
Jack paled slightly.

'And . . .?'

'And nothing,' Ralph said shortly, blushing red.

'Nothing happened?' Jack inquired suspiciously. 'Then why do you look so happy?'

'Happy? I'm not happy,' Ralph protested, and his face flushed into a deeper crimson colour.

Jack was quick to notice this and his eyes widened in disbelief.

'He kissed you!' Jack hissed quietly so as not to draw attention from their classmates.

'It was just a light kiss on the cheek,' Ralph said indignantly. 'It didn't mean anything!'

'Then why are you so happy?'

'Because . . . er . . . I . . .' Ralph stammered. 'I'm not gay, Jack!'

'Yeah? Well, I used to be straight, too, but now—'

'You're bi,' Ralph finished for him.

Jack just grinned.

'You don't know the pleasures guys can give you, man.'

By now, Ralph's face had paled to an unhealthy green colour and he had a look of immense disgust on his face.

'That's revolting,' Ralph said. 'You can do whatever you want, sleep with whomever you want, Jack . . . but you don't have to tell me about it.'

'I didn't!' Jack snapped. He inhaled deeply, for arguing was the last thing he and Ralph should be doing if he wanted the latter in his bed by next Tuesday. 'Okay, sorry about that . . . It's just . . . you have to keep your mind open, Ralph. Don't rule out guys just because you think you're straight.'

'I don't _think _I'm straight, I _am_ straight!' Ralph replied, pouting cutely.

Jack fought the urge to kiss those plush, inviting lips, and instead said, 'Fine. Whatever.'

'And don't think I haven't noticed that you've been hitting on me, Jack Merridew,' Ralph said, 'because I have. I'm not stupid, you know.'

'Whoa!' Jack said, holding up his hands. '_I'm_ hitting on _you_! Last time I checked, _you_ were the one getting hard in gym class.'

Ralph's face flamed with humiliation.

'Please don't tell anyone about that,' he whispered very, very quietly.

'Only after you admit that you were starting to desire me,' Jack said stubbornly.

'Fine! I admit it! I desired you, Jack,' Ralph murmured. 'I didn't know you could be so—'

'Are you working over there, Mr. Macpherson, Mr. Merridew?' Mr. Piddy's voice interrupted.

'Yes, sir,' Jack replied, all the while wondering what Ralph was going to say. He could be so . . . what? Charming? Attractive? Fuckable?

'We're almost done, sir,' Ralph said.

'Then quit the chit-chatting and just finish!' the professor snapped.

'Yes, sir,' they replied in unison before they hunched over their pages once more on the pretense of working.

'What were you going to say?' Jack muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

'Nothing. Forget it.'

Jack decided to let the matter drop, not wanting to start another row.

'You have twenty minutes left, people,' Mr. Piddy said loudly enough for everyone to hear. 'If you do not hand it in today, you are to hand it in first thing on Monday. Do not lose any more marks than you have to!'

The hushed murmuring that filled the room immediately ceased, and the only sound that could be heard was a quick scratching of pencils on paper, as well as the continuous sound of the evaluator's pen flowing across her clipboard.

-

_Ring_!

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Ralph sighed and gathered his papers together. He had _just_ managed to finish copying Jack's work, and Jack his. The two teens made their way to the front of the room and handed in their homework, as well as the original assignment packages. They were two of the very few students to do so, and many of their classmates shot them envious looks as they walked past.

'Thank you . . .' Mr. Piddy muttered as each student handed in his papers. 'The stapler? It's on the corner of my desk, but be sure to write your name on all your pages in case they get separated . . . Thank you . . . Thanks . . . Wonderful . . .'

Ralph walked out of the classroom alongside Jack, and neither of them mentioned the incident in the gym again. Likewise, they did not mention Ralph's unfinished sentence of "I didn't know you could be so—" directed towards Jack. It was one of those rare moments where there was an unspoken understanding between them.

'Um . . . I guess I'll see ya later,' Ralph said after a while.

'Yeah,' Jack replied in a monotone type of voice.

Then the two of them went their separate ways.

-

It was lunchtime again. Ralph hurried upstairs to put his stuff in the locker, and he saw that Jack was already there.

'Hey,' Jack said warmly, stuffing his whole bag into the locker.

'Hey,' Ralph replied. He did the same, only keeping with him the brown paper bag that held his lunch in it.

Jack swung the door closed.

'I have to go now,' he said with some disappointment. 'I have a detention to serve with Lyori. I'll see you at gym, though, okay?'

'Yeah . . .' Ralph watched the other boy go, then, 'Wait, Jack!'

As if expecting it, Jack spun around.

'Yeah?'

Ralph hesitated, very aware of the icy blue gaze fixed on him.

'Erm . . . never mind,' he muttered before hurrying away to the cafeteria to meet Ray. When he arrived there, the other boy was already there, seated at their usual table.

'Hey,' Ray said.

'Hey,' Ralph replied. 'Sorry I took so long.' He sat down and carelessly tossed his lunch bag onto the table.

'No prob. You were talking to Jack again, no doubt.'

'What would you care even if I was?' Ralph asked indignantly, retrieving his sandwich from the bag.

'Like I said before,' Ray said slowly, 'you two make a cute couple.'

'Just because we make a "cute" couple doesn't mean we'd be a good one!' Ralph snapped. 'We are totally and completely 100 different!'

'Except for the way you feel about each other.'

'Yes, except for the way we feel ab—' Ralph suddenly paused in mid-sentence. 'Hey, wait a minute . . .'

Ray grinned smugly.

'Shut up!' Ralph snapped. 'I don't feel anything for Jack! We're just friends!'

'Is that so?' Ray inquired, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich.

'Yeah,' Ralph replied, unwrapping his lunch. 'Why would you even think there was anything more between us, Ray? What reasons have you got?'

The other teen swallowed his food and said, 'Nothing . . . except for the fact that you yourself almost admitted it.'

'Yes, the key word there being "almost". It was just a slip of the tongue.'

'Or was it?'

'I choose to ignore that,' Ralph said, biting into his sandwich.

Ray just smiled.


	10. Pubsy's Place

**(10) Pubsy's Place**

'What is it you wanted to show me anyway?' Ralph asked exasperatedly, tugging his sleeve away from a thorny bush. It was not the first time he'd had to do so that afternoon. Apparently, the "thing" Ray had to show him was somewhere in the forest beside the school. Not a forest, really. Just a small wood. A small, _thorny_ wood.

'I'll tell you when we get there,' Ray replied, easily jumping over a fallen log. 'I came across it yesterday when I was walking home. I kind of just strayed from the path without realizing it and kind of came across . . . it.'

'And what is "it"?' Ralph questioned.

Ray grinned mischievously.

'Now, if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?' A playful glint shone in his eye. 'But believe me, you're going to love it!'

Ralph rolled his eyes.

'Well, I wouldn't know if I am going to love it or not if I don't even know what it is. Please, Ray!' he said, practically begging now. 'Just tell me what it is. That way, I might even be able to help you look for it!'

'No way! I'm not telling you.'

'For fuck's sake,' Ralph muttered, beginning to lose his patience. 'I fucking hate surprises, and we're both going to be late for class if we don't find this "thing" soon and get out of this fucking forest.'

Ray frowned slightly.

'It'll be worth your while, believe me,' he said. 'Trust me, Ralph. Just trust me.'

Ralph sighed.

'Fine, I trust you' he responded, giving in. 'We'll walk around for a bit longer. But I've seen what my gym teacher does to those guys who are late, so I'm going to beat it out of here before the bell rings whether we find this "thing" or not. Okay?'

The charming smile returned to Ray's face.

'Okay. Deal. If we don't find this thing before class begins, we'll just forget it and go.'

Ralph smiled.

'Well, Ray, we've got about . . .' He trailed off and glanced down at his wristwatch, quickly noticing that the hands had stopped moving. He absentmindedly tapped at the glass to see if they were just stuck or something, but they stayed just as they were. 'Crap,' he muttered, 'I have to get a new battery.' He looked up at his friend. 'Hmm . . . Well, it looks like it's up to you when we get back to school. My watch just stopped working. Just don't make us late, aight?'

'No problem,' Ray replied with a wide grin. 'We'll be back in time. Don't worry.'

-

"We'll be back in time. Don't worry." That's what Ray had said, and what had happened? They were late!

Ralph and Ray had stayed in the wood a bit too long, looking for that "thing" Ray had mentioned. But they simply could not find it and they eventually gave up . . . until tomorrow. They leisurely made their way back to the school, dragging their feet across the uneven forest ground. It took them a while to realize that they were late for their next class, and a while longer to find their way out of the damned forest, small though it was.

'Bye, Ray,' Ralph called over his shoulder, somewhat disgruntled. He hastily raced into the school and dashed up the stairs. He then speed-walked down the corridor (lest he be caught and chastised for running, which would make him even more late than he already was) to his locker, crammed his gym clothes into his bag, and then rushed off in the opposite direction. By the time he made it to the change rooms, he was already fifteen minutes late for class. However, he wasn't the only one.

'Hey,' Jack greeted him, hastily pulling on his gym t-shirt.

'Hey,' Ralph replied absentmindedly as he kicked his shoes off and tossed them into an empty locker. 'Why are you late?'

'Lyori kept me in detention too long,' Jack replied. 'Probably on purpose, too. He and Penting are likely working together to land me another detention.' He shoved his feet into his shoes and hurriedly tied his laces. 'Why are _you_ late, Ralph?'

'Long story,' the other teen muttered. 'But to keep it short, Ray got us lost in the forest.'

'No kidding.' Jack grinned. 'Well, do you want me to wait for you?'

'Nah, just go.' Ralph waved him away. 'There's no point in making you more late than you have to be.'

Jack merely shrugged.

'Whatever. The consequences would be the same, whether I'm a second late or an hour late. Penting hates my guts.'

Ralph didn't know what to say, so he wisely stayed silent as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt. His movements were rather slow and leisurely, though that was mainly because of Jack's sharp, lingering eyes. Ralph decided that having the blue orbs didn't make him that uncomfortable. Really, he rather liked having Jack there while he undressed. But what did that mean exactly? Was he attracted to males?

'Are you okay, Ralph?' Jack asked suddenly. 'Do you want me to leave?'

'Why would you ask that?' Ralph said a little too quickly.

'Well, you seem to be watching me in a weird way.'

So he had. He had been so distracted by Jack's gaze on him that he hadn't realized it was mutual.

'Sorry,' Ralph muttered. 'I didn't mean to stare like that. It's just that you . . .'

"—are rather attractive," his mind said. "I can't believe I've never before noticed how fucking beautiful you are."

Knowing that he could only fuck things up for himself if he said anything, Ralph shut his mouth and pulled his shirt off, letting his sentence stand as it was.

'I'm what, Ralph?' Jack questioned curiously. 'What were you going to say?'

'Nothing. Never mind,' Ralph replied, digging into his bag for his gym shirt. 'Just forget it.'

With a rather intense look on his face, Jack sat down beside the other teen. The latter shuddered slightly at the unexpected movement and his face flushed when he felt Jack's knee press against his.

'I can't wait till tonight,' Jack whispered, allowing his hand to rest on the other's thigh. 'We'll have lots of fun together, won't we, Ralph?'

Ralph nervously pushed the hand away and stood up.

'Stop it, Jack,' he said in a shaky voice. 'We're-we're going to be late for class.' With some difficulty, since his hands were trembling so much, Ralph pulled on his t-shirt and changed into his gym shorts before hurrying out of the change room . . . leaving a cursed heart behind.

-

'Damn!' Jack murmured to himself once Ralph had left. 'If I can't get any closer to him, how the fuck am I going to win this bet?' Still muttering, he walked out of the deserted change room and followed Ralph to the gym.

'You're late . . . again,' Mr. Penting said, clucking his tongue disapprovingly.

'Yes, sir. I know, sir,' Jack responded mechanically. 'Sorry, sir.' He sounded like he was in the fucking army!

'You will write me an essay on the importance of being on time. Six hundred words. To be handed in on Monday.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Okay, now go join your partner, Mr. Macpherson, on the mats over there.'

'Yes, sir.'

Jack dragged his feet towards the navy blue mat that Ralph was lying on. The latter was idly staring up at the ceiling, determinedly avoiding Jack's gaze.

'You know,' Jack said slowly, 'maybe it would be better if we weren't partners in gym class anymore. Especially after . . . what happened.' Detaching himself from Ralph even more seemed to be the worst faux pas he could make, but Jack also knew that Ralph needed his space. He would bide his time . . .

'If that's what you want,' Ralph said softly.

Jack was surprised to hear the tone of regret in his companion's voice.

'You mean, you don't want to switch partners?' he asked.

'Not really, no,' Ralph replied, quickly adding, 'I don't really know anyone else in this class.'

'You know Lee and Terry,' Jack reminded him, immediately wondering why he had done so. Why was he purposefully pushing Ralph further and further away from him? True, Ralph needed his space, but why force it upon him if he didn't want it? Ah, well, maybe Jack was just being a prat.

'Oh, well, if you'd rather I do that, then . . .' He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.

'No, I didn't mean it like that at all!' Jack said quickly. 'I mean, I did, but—Argh! J-just forget we had this conversation,' he said, boldly laying his hand on Ralph's arm. 'We'll continue being partners . . . for gym,' the teen added belatedly. 'We-we'll just forget that that . . . incident never happened. Okay?'

Ralph gave him an odd look.

'Why are you doing this?' he asked in a shaky voice. 'Don't you care about what the others will think?'

'The others don't know,' Jack replied. 'The others don't have to know about that. It'll be our secret. Besides,' he said, a wide grin spreading across his face, 'I would rather have Lee being Terry's partner rather than you or me. It makes for a more . . . humorous situation.' He pointedly glanced at his friends' direction. Lee was curled up on the mat, sharp breaths escaping his chest.

'That's the . . . third . . . fucking time . . . you . . . did that . . . Ter . . .' he gasped.

Terry had a sincere look on his face.

'I already told you I'm sorry, Lee,' he responded, shrugging. 'I didn't mean to kick you in the crotch.'

Having witnessed this brief display, Jack snickered softly.

'See what I mean?' he inquired of his companion.

'But I though Lee was your friend,' Ralph said. 'Isn't he?'

'He is! It's just . . . he can be a real ass sometimes. He gets on my nerves a helluva lot.'

"Especially with his non-stop betting," Jack added mentally.

'Well . . .' Ralph said slowly. 'It looks like we're stuck with each other then, eh, Jack?'

Jack ignored the mental images that formed in his mind from that sentence.

'It appears so,' he said with a grin.

'Come on then. Let's try a few positions. Unless, of course, you think yourself unequal to the task . . .'

And of course, Jack rose up to the challenge. Raising his chin confidently, he replied, 'Baby, I'll wipe the floor with your face!'

-

For the hundredth time that night, Ralph was asking himself why he had agreed to go to that club with Jack and his friends. It was probably just some local pub where a group of horny teens can work out their pent-up energy. Not exactly something he was into. Regardless of his doubtful mind, however, Ralph continued digging through his closet for some . . . suitable clothing.

'Do I have _nothing_ to wear?' he asked himself aloud.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang suddenly.

Rolling his eyes, Ralph threw on the first things his hands came in contact with. Then he stood up and, after absentmindedly rubbing his aching knees, went to open the door.

'Hi,' a friendly face greeted him, flashing him a warm smile.

'Hey,' Ralph replied, taking in the bright red hair resting on top of a rather attractive face . . . head . . . whatever. 'Er . . . you're Eddy, are you not?'

'I'm him all right! Let's get going then, Ralph!' He gallantly offered his arm, which Ralph politely refused.

'Um . . . Maybe we should get to know each other a bit better first,' he said nervously, toying with the belt loops of his jeans.

'Look, I'm just going to walk you to my car,' the other said. 'It's not like I'm going to fuck you or anything. Like, even _I_ have to get to know a person before I do something like that!'

Ralph laughed, feeling more at ease.

'Okay, sure then,' he said, looping his arm through the other teen's. 'What's your name anyway?'

'Eddy.'

'Yeah, well, you already know me.' Ralph grinned and shut the front door. Then he allowed Eddy to lead him down the steps and to the awaiting car—an old, beat-up hatchback.

'You like to travel in style, don't you?' Ralph teased.

'Hey, it gets me places,' Eddy shrugged. 'I just need a working jalopy with four wheels. Nothing fancy.'

'Don't you care what other people think?' the former asked, awkwardly looking at the ground.

'Why should I? I don't give a shit what other people think of me. By the looks of things, neither do you?'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Ralph snapped.

'Nothing!' Eddy replied immediately. 'It's just . . . your choice of clothing is rather . . . unique.'

'Wha?' For the first time, Ralph glanced down at what he was wearing. There wasn't really anything wrong with his outfit, for he was just wearing a pair of khakis and an old button-down, navy shirt with a white tank underneath. 'What's wrong with what I'm wearing?'

'Nothing,' Eddy said again. 'Your outfit is fine! It's just not really . . . snazzy.'

'Snazzy?' Ralph laughed.

'Yeah, snazzy. A lot of people like to dress up or whatever when they go clubbing. You know, to attract attention. From what you're wearing, I can see that you're a really down-to-earth kind of guy. Of course, I can't really say the same thing about Jack.'

Ralph's head snapped up.

'What's that supposed to mean?' he demanded, snatching his arm away.

'Hey, I didn't mean any offense by it,' Eddy said, opening Ralph's door for him before he looped around the car to the driver's side. 'It's just . . . Jack _does_ care what people think. He cares too much for his own good. He always has to be at the centre of everything, you know? Has to be popular, else he'd combust or something!'

'That's not true,' Ralph said quietly, staring at Eddy over the hood of the car.

'You know it is,' the latter replied coolly. He climbed into the car and Ralph followed his lead.

'You don't know what he's been through, what he's _still_ going through,' Ralph said.

'I don't have to know,' Eddy responded. 'Knowing what an insufferable git he can be is enough for me. I don't need to know the rest. Besides—' He angled his gaze to Ralph surreptitiously. '—I know things about him that'll make your head spin.'

'Like what? I could easily say the same to you,' Ralph snapped.

Eddy laughed.

'You got spirit, kid. I like that.' He started up the car with a rumble.

They were off.

-

'Here we are,' Eddy said proudly, coming to a halt in front of an old, crumbly building.

"What a dump," Ralph thought. He glanced at the faded brown brick and the wide, musty windows. Loud music could be heard from inside, and Ralph could vaguely see coloured lights swirling across the windows every now and then. All in all, however, this didn't seem like it would be one of his favourite places in this vast city.

'It looks a lot better on the inside,' Eddy reassured him, as if he'd read the other's thoughts. 'It looks like Lee and the others are already here.' He parallel-parked the car between others of the same kin (meaning very old and beat-up jalopies, probably belonging to his friends). Then he and Ralph made their way inside.

'You weren't kidding,' was the first thing Ralph muttered when he went inside. It _did_ look a lot better here than it did from the outside. All the money for renovations seemed to go into the bizarre atmosphere of the place. The walls had colourful circles painted haphazardly across their surfaces and, oddly enough, vivid umbrellas hung from the ceiling in a chandelier-like fashion.

'Nice, eh?' Eddy asked, draping a casual arm around Ralph's shoulders. 'Come on, I see the others by the bar.'

Ralph nervously allowed his companion to lead him across the crowded dance floor, well aware of the engrossed glances thrown his way. He had never been so blatantly pursued before and the experience was not exactly a pleasant one.

'Stay close to me,' Eddy said, and his arm (which had previously been resting on Ralph's shoulders) circled around the latter's waist instead.

'No thanks,' Ralph replied, easily slipping away. He hoped that he didn't seem rude. He just didn't feel comfortable staying so close to some guy he'd just met. It was so . . . weird! 'Lee!' he sighed happily when he finally found someone else he recognized. 'Fred, Terry . . .' He greeted the gang with a slight nod of his head, relieved to have some sort of distraction from Eddy.

'Hey, Ralph,' Fred responded, shooting a strange glance in Eddy's direction.

'How's it going, Fred?' Ralph asked.

'My life's all fucked up. Nothing new,' the other teen replied. 'Hey, have you met my date, Ralph? This is Wendy.'

The cute redhead next to Fred waved energetically at the newcomer.

'Hi!' she said giddily. 'Nice to meet you, Ralph.'

'Same here,' Ralph responded automatically, though his attention had now wandered away from Fred. He had just caught sight of Jack. The latter was spinning around on the dance floor with someone he didn't know. 'Who's that guy with Jack?' he questioned Lee, trying to maintain a casual composure and merely seem as though he were curious.

'Hmm?' the other teen followed his gaze. 'Oh, him. That's Joe.'

"Joe . . ." Ralph felt an indefinable anger course through him; he didn't know where it had come from. Despite the fire burning in his veins, Ralph still felt an underlying layer of despair as waves of darkness soared through him.

'S-so, are he and Jack a . . . a coupleor whatever?' he asked in a shaky voice, nervously chewing on his thumb.

'Nah, they're just friends,' Fred replied, having overheard their conversation.

He breathed a sigh of relief. They were just friends then . . . but were they? Jack's hands were resting on Joe's hips and the two of them were grinding together in beat with the music. It was a very . . . intimate dance for guys whom were just "friends".

'Are you sure?' Ralph inquired.

'Pretty sure. Both of them are too shy to admit otherwise.'

"FUCK!" Ralph swore inwardly.

'Um . . . I need a drink.' He turned to the bartender and ordered a beer, intent on draining any doubts and thoughts of Jack from his mind.

'I'll be back in a sec,' Eddy told him, making Ralph jump. He had completely forgotten about the other teen, having been so engrossed in watching Jack.

'Where are you going?' Terry asked.

'I have to use the loo.' He looked pointedly at Lee before disappearing into the crowd.

'Um . . . Yeah, and I think I'll . . . go find a dance partner,' Lee finished lamely, and he, too, vanished.

'That's odd,' Fred said. 'You'd think those two were an item or something, seeing how they both "conveniently" leave at the same time.'

It was highly unlikely that they were a couple, but Ralph was conscious of the fact that _something_ was going on. He had followed Lee with his eyes, seeing that the aforementioned teen disappeared into the club's restroom as well. And Ralph was very doubtful that he was looking for a dance partner.

-

'What up?' Lee asked Eddy the moment he stepped into the bathroom.

'I don't know if I can do this,' the latter said, lighting a cigarette with shaky hands.

'Why not?' Lee demanded, placing his hands firmly on his hips.

'I don't know,' Eddy admitted. 'I just don't know. This Ralph guy . . . Wow, he's attractive and all, and he's quick to pick up on the little hints I drop . . .'

'Then what seems to be the problem?'

'We're playing with fire here, Lee!' Eddy exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. Smoke trailed from his left hand as he waved his arms about and ashes fell from his cig.

Lee crossed his arms over his chest.

'I'm afraid I don't understand.'

'You asked me to tamper with the bet, to draw Ralph away from Jack . . .'

'So? What's the problem?'

'That _is_ the problem!' Eddy furiously raked his red hair back with his free hand. 'You know about Jack's reputation! How the hell am I supposed to get Ralph away from him? How the fuck can I compete with Jack Merridew!'

'That's your problem, not mine,' Lee replied. 'Are we done now?'

'No! We are nowhere near done! I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to do!' Eddy almost shouted.

'Keep your voice down,' Lee hissed. 'Do you want someone to hear you?'

Eddy sighed and took a long draught from his cigarette. He casually leaned back against the wall as he blew the smoke out through his nose.

'You're right, Lee. I can't lose my head over this.' He tossed his cigarette on the damp floor and ground it out with his boot. 'But have you seen how Ralph looks at Jack? He's hardly even aware of anything else around him.'

'Then distract him,' Lee said.

'It isn't exactly that easy, especially with Merridew in the room.'

'You'll manage it,' Lee replied, clapping his friend on the shoulder. 'You can do this.'

'I hope you're right. The way I see it, this bet is turning out to be more trouble than it's worth.'

'Whatever you do will be worth it,' Lee reassured him. 'Trust me, it'll be worth it.'

'It better be,' Eddy said. 'Okay, you go out first. It'll look suspicious if we leave the loo together.'

Lee gave him a mock salute and exited the restroom. The other teen waited for a few minutes before following his friend out the door. Had they but stayed a moment longer, they would have seen John emerge from one of the stalls with a frozen, shocked look on his face.

'What the hell!'


	11. Defeat Plus Despair Is Merridew's World

**(11) Defeat Plus Despair Equals Merridew's World**

"Ralph's here," Jack realized, seeing the teen sitting casually at the bar with the others. "Should I go over to him or continue dancing with Joe?" He glanced at his dance partner, who was looking unexplainably sexy tonight of all nights. Maybe it was the way his long blond hair was gelled back from his face, or maybe it was the way he twisted his body in smooth, sensual motions. Maybe it was because of the navy silk shirt he wore, which highlighted his attractive bod and porcelain skin.

Then again, maybe it was the alcohol talking.

'Come closer, Jack,' Joe said, coaxing Jack's attention back to him. The former danced his way closer towards Jack, until their legs were hitting each other and they had no choice but to move in unison or fall over.

Jack subconsciously placed his hands on the other's hips and moved together, though his attention was still focused on Ralph. The other teen was engaged in a seemingly intense conversation with Fred, though God only knew what they were talking about. His eyes followed the way Ralph's fingers gently stroked the neck of his beer bottle, as if testing its durability. A pang of desire shot through him and he hastily jumped away from Joe, lest the latter felt the . . . evidence of his arousal.

'I'll be back,' Jack yelled to him over the raucous music, and he hurriedly made his way towards to bar. He badly needed a drink.

'Hey,' his friends greeted him.

'Yo,' he replied, ordering a shot from the bartender. 'You guys having fun?' he asked before downing the entire contents of the glass down his throat. The alcohol burned pleasantly through his veins, effectively numbing his body.

'We're cool, Jack,' Terry replied, gulping down his drink. 'Just chillin', y'know.'

"Man, he is totally wasted," Jack thought amusedly.

'Hey, lay off the drinks a bit, buddy,' he said. 'Just sit down on the couch for a while.'

'Nah, I'm good on this stool, Jackie,' Terry responded. At that moment, he began to sway dangerously and it took four of them to hold him up. 'No, really, I'm good,' Terry said again.

'Whatever,' Jack shrugged, and he hoisted himself up onto the stool beside Ralph. 'I saw you staring when I was out there,' he said, chuckling softly.

Ralph blushed, but he still had the wits to reply, 'I noticed the action was mutual.'

Jack laughed.

'Yeah, well, I have an eye for pretty things.' He raised his eyebrows suggestively. 'I liked what I saw, but I liked even more what I didn't see, Ralph.'

If it were humanly possible, Ralph's face seemed to become even redder. To avoid an awkward response, he took a long draught from his beer bottle.

'Hey, come with me,' Jack said, tugging at Ralph's sleeve. 'Let's go dance.'

Ralph's face, which had just started to lose its abnormal colour, once again glowed like the setting sun. He had probably just recalled how Jack Merridew liked to dance.

'Um . . . Maybe later,' he said, pulling away.

'Come on!' Jack urged. 'You're not going to have any fun tonight if you keep saying, "Maybe later".'

'Hey, the kid doesn't want to dance, Jack,' Eddy cut in, stepping between them. 'You can't make him.'

'I didn't ask _you_,' Jack retorted before shifting his attention back to the hesitant teen. 'Come on, Ralph! Please dance with me?' Jack pleaded with large, teary-looking eyes. 'Please, please, please, please, please—'

-

Ralph rolled his eyes in obvious annoyance.

'I promise I'll make it good for you,' Jack prompted. 'I won't step on your toes or anything!'

Stepping on toes was the last thing that came to Ralph's mind, for he couldn't help but feel that there was an underlying current to this request. After all, why was Jack so keen to dance with him when there were more than a hundred-odd people in the room?

'Please, please, please, please, please!' the other begged, continuing his earlier plague.

'All right,' Ralph finally acquiesced, 'if only to shut you up.' He obligingly let Jack lead him onto the dance floor (after the latter had finished cheering and shooting triumphant looks at Eddy). Then they started to dance.

'All right,' the DJ said in his cool, mellow voice. 'We're going to tone things down for now. This is for all you lovebirds out there.'

To Ralph utter dismay, an incredibly slow song came on, one which seemed to constantly mock him. He gave Jack a mildly embarrassed (though apologetic) look and began to walk off the dance floor.

'Wait,' Jack said, catching a hold of his arm. 'You promised to dance with me. You can't back out now.'

'B-but this s-song . . .' Ralph stuttered uncomfortably.

The other teen gave him a queer look.

'You've never slow-danced with a guy before, have you, Ralph?'

'No,' Ralph replied with downcast eyes. 'Then again, my family moves around a lot, so I haven't really had very many close friends.'

"After the island incident," he mentally added to himself. "And even then my friends turned against me to join . . . you." A sudden wave of nausea hit him and he subconsciously clutched his stomach.

'Are you all right, Ralph?' Jack asked, concerned. 'If you're really that uncomfortable about dancing with me, you can just forget about it.' He seemed very down.

'No, it's not that,' Ralph said quickly.

'Oh, so you _will_ dance with me?' Hope re-lit in the other's shining eyes.

Ralph fought his illness back and shakily nodded.

'I guess so.'

A smirk formed on Jack's lips.

'Come here.'

He nervously stepped forwards and waited for Jack to tell him what to do next.

'Now, place your hand on my shoulder,' the latter said, while he rested his hand on Ralph's waist.

Ralph licked his chapped lips, trying not to blush.

Jack flashed him a reassuring smile and took Ralph's other hand in his own. Then they started rotating in slow circles, subconsciously avoiding collision with the other dancing couples.

"This isn't so bad," Ralph thought, swirling around the dance floor with Jack. "Crazy, yes, but not too bad. If someone had told me that I would be slow-dancing the middle of a club with Jack Merridew, I would have beat the crap out of them. But look, this is really happening." He had to admit, though, it was weird being so submissive in a situation such as this. If Jack were a girl, Ralph would be leading. It was just . . . different to be the "girl". "Jack is an okay guy,' Ralph decided. 'It was rather sweet how he asked me to dance. Bizarre, but sweet."

Ralph heard Jack sigh, and it snapped him out of his reverie. Almost unconsciously, the former leaned closer to Jack to rest his head on the other teen's shoulder. His arms comfortably wrapped around Jack's neck and he pressed their bodies together. Whatever inhibitions Ralph felt had obviously vanished.

Jack seemed slightly surprised by the other's sudden change of attitude, but he adjusted his position accordingly, allowing his arms to circle Ralph's trim waist.

They danced like that for a seemingly long while, their chests pressed intimately close. And then, the song ended, terminating the special bond they had felt for those brief moments. The pair broke away, staring intently into each other's eyes.

'Thank you for the dance,' Ralph murmured.

'The pleasure was all mine,' Jack replied with a slight bow of his head. 'Care for another?'

Ralph shifted his weight nervously.

'Well . . .' he hesitated. Sure, he had enjoyed dancing with Jack, but wouldn't people start talking if they kept this up?

As if he read his mind, the latter leaned over, carefully whispering, 'If you care what other people think of us, then don't! All that matters is you and I. The rest of the world can go shit themselves and mind their own fucking business.'

A smile appeared on Ralph's face in spite of himself.

'Okay then,' he agreed. 'Let's dance!'

'Great!' Jack said.

They started to do just that.

After only a short while, however, Ralph could tell Jack's attention was shifting to something else . . . or rather, some_one_ else. It was rather irritating how he kept staring over Ralph's shoulder at . . . RAY! An unexplainable surge of jealousy flowed through Ralph's veins as he watched Jack. The latter was looking at Ray with a mixture of interest and intensity. Not exactly a very favourable combination for Ralph.

'Why don't you just go dance with Ray then, Jack!' he screamed over the music before angrily trudging away. He was gone before Jack could catch him.

-

'Crap!' Jack exclaimed, causing several people to glance in his direction. Both annoyed and frustrated with himself, he stomped towards Ray to find out what the hell the other teen wanted. He had been waving to Jack frantically (when Ralph hadn't been looking), clearly wishing to speak to the other teen. It was very distracting, and it was obvious that Ray would only stop once he talked to Jack.

'What took you so long?' Ray asked, a rather impish smile lighting up his face.

'I was dancing,' Jack replied haughtily, flopping down into the chair beside Ray. 'What the hell do you want? It's kind of hard to dance with you about to piss yourself waving.'

Surprisingly, Ray chuckled and didn't seem all that bothered about being insulted.

'I was just observing how you and Ralph are getting along. So . . .?'

'So what?'

'So, how far have you gotten with him? Not there yet, eh, mate?'

'How the hell would you know?'

A mischievous glint appeared in Ray's eye.

'I make it my business to know, mate. Besides,' he continued, taking a sip from his glass, 'you're trying too hard for it to have already happened.'

'Oh yeah?' Jack inquired, searching his mind for a comeback. 'Well, obviously you haven't slept with him either. He would be fawning over you or something if you guys did do it.'

'And how would you know that?'

'I know Ralph,' Jack said. 'He takes everything seriously. If he fucks with someone, it'll be "making love" to him.'

'So you've actually thought about this?' Ray asked amusedly.

'No, I haven't. I just knowit's going to happen,' Jack responded. 'I know that he won't sleep with anyone unless he knows for sure that they are _the_ one.'

'Is that so?' Ray took another sip from his glass before finally setting it down. 'Then why did you make this bet? You think you can make our object of desire fall in love with you?'

'Why not? I've done it before!' Jack replied, sounding a lot more confident than he felt.

'No, you haven't,' Ray said coolly. 'Hate to tell you this, mate, but you've only made people fall in love with the "fake" you.'

"Don't listen to him," Jack told himself. "He's just trying to taunt you."

'The guy they love is just someone who doesn't give a shit about anything and can give them a good fuck,' the other teen continued.

"Don't listen! What does he know anyway?"

'They don't care about the real you, Jack. No one does. No one.'

'SHUT UP!' Jack screamed. 'JUST SHUT UP, RAY!'

Contrary to how most normal people would react, Ray merely grinned.

'Okay, now _that's _he reaction I was looking for,' he said cheekily. 'You're going to need that feisty side of you before the end comes. You've been holding back, mate, but I must admit, I've been doing that, too.' He stood up and picked up the cocktail umbrella from his glass, which he proceeded to flick at Jack. 'Just remember, only four days left.'

'Five!' Jack responded, raising his chin assertively. 'The night's not over yet, Ray.'

'It will be once I'm through with Ralph.' He smiled darkly at Jack before disappearing into the crowd, clearly in search of Ralph.

"FUCK! He planned this thing the whole fucking time!" Jack suddenly realized. "He made me leave Ralph, which made Ralph mad. And now this is the perfect opening for him to interfere!" The teen hunched over and buried his head in his hands. "It's all over. He's going to win, and my rep will be all fucked up." He sniffled quietly in self-pity. "What the hell is wrong with me? If this were any other guy but Ralph, I would have him crawling on his knees by now. You suck, Jack Merridew! You lost your mojo!"

With that said, he furiously took Ray's abandoned glass and whipped it across the room. Fortunately, it didn't hit anybody. It simply hit the nearest interfering wall and shattered, just like Jack's reputation undoubtedly would.

"You can't do this, Jack!" he scolded himself. "This is one person you can't have. You fucked up royally, Merridew. You lost everything! You lost your rep, you lost the bet, and you probably even lost Ralph. Jack, you even lost your self-respect . . . How much lower can you get!"

"STOP FUCKING WALLOWING IN YOUR OWN SELF-PITY, MERRIDEW!" his more reasonable mind . . . um, reasoned. "FOCUS ON HOW YOU CAN REPAIR THE DAMAGE!"

"Yes, Jack," another (softer) voice agreed inside his head. "You are _the_ man! There's no guy you _can't _get. Trust in time, and only then . . . only then can you trust yourself."

-

'Why the hell does Jack always have to fuck with my mind like that?' Ralph furiously murmured to himself as he made his way back to the others. 'He asks me to dance, but he can't look at anyone besides Ray! Argh! I'm feel so humiliated!'

'Back so soon?' Lee asked him with an odd grin on his face.

'Yeah,' Ralph replied. 'Apparently, Jack was more interested in pursuing other guys while we were dancing.'

Lee looked somewhat surprised by this, but he made no comment on the matter.

'Are you having fun tonight, Ralph?' John questioned. 'You know, despite that whole Jack thing.'

'I guess,' Ralph shrugged. 'This is certainly . . . different.'

'Yeah, I suppose that's one way of putting it.' John shrugged as well, as if contesting Ralph's ability to shrug.

Suddenly, Ralph overheard an . . . interesting conversation behind him.

'Yeah, then he just told me, "I found someone else. But, hey, if I ever need a good blow job, I'll call you."'

'That sucks, man.'

'No, it blows.'

There was laughter. Then, 'I still remember what happened on the day he broke up with _me_. He caught me in, like, an hour-long lip lock. Then he suddenly pulled away and said, "I don't things are working out between us anymore. Sorry, kid." He's such a heartless bastard, but he is _so_ hot.'

'Oh yeah, he's like a walking sex machine.'

Curious, Ralph turned around to confront the teenagers behind him.

'Sorry,' he said, standing at the outer edges of their circle. 'I couldn't help but overhear you. I was just wondering, who are you guys talking about?'

'The school slut,' one of them (a redhead) replied indifferently. 'He's the last guy you'll ever see committing to anyone, but he can give you interesting sexual experiences.'

Ralph bit his lip nervously. That had been a little bit too much information.

'You better watch out, man,' another teen (a brunet) said. 'You're a pretty attractive guy, and you're obviously new. Otherwise, you would already have heard of him. I mean, _everyone_ knows him.'

'He's the school heartthrob,' the redhead said with a dazed look on his face.

'And heartbreaker,' the blond added darkly.

'Who is this guy?' Ralph asked, impatiently tapping his foot. 'Like, what's his name?'

The group of guys stared at him for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not they should tell him.

'Why do you want to know?'

'Just curious,' Ralph shrugged. 'You guys keep talking about what a "heartthrob" and "heartbreaker" he is. I guess . . . Well, I guess I just want to know so that I could look out for him.'

His answer seemed to satisfy them, for the brunet suddenly replied, 'His name is Jack. Jack Merridew.'

'Jack?' Ralph echoed, paling noticeably.

'So you _have_ heard of him!'

The teens suddenly seemed to notice the nasty hue of his face.

'Hey, you okay, kid? Who are you anyhow?'

Still in a state of shock, Ralph began to walk away.

'Kid?'

'My name's Ralph,' he called over his shoulder, trying not to look at them.

Their demeanor changed suddenly and they became extremely giddy.

'_You're_ Ralph!' the redhead exclaimed. 'Oh man!'

'What?' he snarled, spinning around on his heel. 'Am I Jack's next victim or something?'

'Uh . . . Why do you ask?'

That answer was good enough for Ralph.

'Er . . . Thanks for your help,' he remarked, turning to leave once more.

'Hey, would you mind giving us a few hints?' the blond asked. 'Like, are you going to fall for him or not?'

Ralph's only response was a hasty, 'Bye!'


	12. Beelzebub Returns

**(12) Beelzebub Returns**

Livid with anger, Ralph's eyes swept around the room, looking for Jack. He spotted Jack hanging around the other end of the room, fighting off a crowd of guys.

"Probably his sickening fan club," he thought darkly. A now red-faced Ralph furiously began to stalk towards his victim. But just then, Ray appeared out of nowhere, barring Ralph's way.

'Get out of my way, Ray,' Ralph demanded, trying to sidestep the other teen.

'Can't do that, mate,' Ray replied, smiling.

'Oh? And why not?'

'You're upset and angry. You might do something you'll regret.'

'I won't regret this,' Ralph said confidently. 'Now get out of my way, Ray!'

But Ray firmly (and stubbornly) stood his ground.

'You will,' he responded evenly. 'Jack is a human, and humans are prone to make mistakes. You can't hold this stupid bet against him.'

'I can if it involves me!' Ralph said haughtily. Then he abruptly realized something. 'You knew about the bet,' he accused, 'and you never told me!'

Ray's face fell and his smile vanished.

'Now, don't get mad at me, Ralph,' he said, holding up his hands defensively. 'I was—'

'What do you know about the bet?' Ralph interrupted, towering over the other teen. 'All I know is that I'm Jack's next victim. Me! Me, of all people! But what else is there to know, Ray? Tell me! What else is there to know?'

Ray sighed, nervously biting his lip.

'What are you not telling me?' Ralph demanded. 'What else does this bet involve?'

Ray gave him a sheepish smile, and Ralph paled.

'No. Don't tell me _you're_ somehow involved, too! I don't think I could deal with that right now, Ray. You're my only friend. I need you on my side.'

'I am sorry, Ralph,' Ray replied quietly.

'Oh, I see how it is,' Ralph snarled, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Everyone knows what this bet is about. Everyone but me! And I'm a fucking key player in this sick game. Just how are you involved exactly, Ray?'

Ray hesitated, then, 'Jack and I are fighting for your . . . ahem . . . affections.'

'WHAT THE FUCK! Is your brain the one that thinks for you, Ray, or is it your cock?' Ralph raked a hand through his hair in agitation. 'You have to learn to grow up. You see everything as a game, but—reality check!—life is not a game!' He sighed and added, 'And even if it was, then you just lost. You _both_ did.'

'Please, Ralph. You're upset! Just give me a chance to explain myself. Hear me out.'

'I think I've heard enough from you,' Ralph said icily. Then he simply walked away.

Making sure he stayed well away from Ray this time, Ralph once again continued his short journey to the other side of the room, to Jack. The latter had noticed him by now and abandoned his "fans" to meet him halfway.

'What's up, Ralph?' he asked, trying to sound casual. 'Hey, you're not still bothered about that whole "Ray" thing, are you?'

'I don't know. Why don't you tell me?' Ralph said coldly.

'You're not making any sense, Ralph.'

'Just clarify this for me, Jack . . . Which "Ray" thing do you mean? The one where you just _had_ to talk to him while we were supposed to be dancing? Or the one involving the two of you making a certain little bet?'

Jack's face blanched to a sickly green colour.

'You know about the bet?'

'I was bound to find out sometime!' Ralph exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. 'What the hell is wrong with you two, Jack! Did you even stop to think about how _I_ might feel about all this?' He growled in frustration, then added, 'No. No, you'd never have thought of that, would you? Because you only think about yourself!'

'You know what I'm like,' Jack said miserably. 'You know me better than any of my friends; you've known me longer than they have.'

'You still think we're friends?' Ralph inquired stonily. 'Ha! Friends don't do this to each other, _Merridew_!'

Jack flinched slightly, but said nothing and allowed Ralph to rave on.

'I can't believe you. I can't believe you'd stake our friendship on something as stupid as this!'

'So we _were_ friends?' Jack asked hopefully.

'I liked to think so. God knows how much you'd changed since we were stranded on that island . . . That's what I thought, anyway. But you haven't changed a bit, Merridew! You're still that selfish, conceited bastard who wanted to kill me!'

'I'm sorry,' Jack said softly, something which was rather uncharacteristic of him.

'For what? For almost killing me? For betting you can fuck me? For breaking my heart!' Ralph suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth; his eyes widened in fear of what he just said.

'What did you say?' Jack questioned.

Knowing that the other teen had heard quite clearly what he'd said, Ralph boldly squared his shoulders and asked, 'Are you sorry for breaking my heart?' Yes, his heart was broken. Though he was loath to admit it, Ralph had grown very fond of Jack over the past few days. And the fact that Jack thought him nothing more than a playing piece in his sick game made Ralph feel so . . . insignificant. He hated that feeling with a passion and, thus, his anger grew towards the other teenager . . . though he hardly realized that it was aimed more at himself.

'Your heart?' Jack whispered, as if he could only say a few words at a time. 'Ralph . . .'

Ralph agitatedly ran a hand through his hair.

'Come on, Merridew,' he said, forcefully grabbing hold of the other's upper arm. 'Let's go somewhere private to talk.' He half-led, half-dragged Jack outside to the deserted alleyway between Pubsy's and the shabby convenience store next door, much to the protests of Jack's friends, who saw them leaving.

'Hey, where are you guys going?' Fred called.

'Yeah, get back in here!' John added.

'Jack! Ralph! Get your asses in here!' Lee screamed.

But the two teens had ignored them all, not wanting to waste their time replying. It was in that same silence that the two stood opposite each other in the shadowed alley.

'Ralph,' Jack began, but Ralph abruptly cut him off.

'No, me first. Look, I care for you, Jack, I really do,' he admitted, though he knew he would probably feel like kicking himself afterwards. 'But . . . I still can't believe I meant _nothing _to you, nothing at all. Did you care for me at all, or did you just pay so much attention to me because I was part of your stupid bet?'

'It may have started out that way, but . . .' Jack trailed off, not knowing what to say.

'But?'

Jack sighed, then said, 'Ralph, I'm sorry for getting involved in that bet in the first place. It was just an impulsive movement! I didn't know what I was doing.'

'You're avoiding the question.'

The other teen sighed again.

'Look, I didn't know that you were the victim, Ralph. If I did, things might have ended up differently. For one, I wouldn't have even made the bet in the first place.'

'But you still would have if it was another guy?'

'Well, yeah,' Jack admitted sheepishly.

'But if that happened, I would never have gotten to know you as well as I have.'

'Probably not.'

Ralph allowed a crooked smile to grace his formerly scowling lips.

'Destiny works in ironic ways,' he said.

'Yeah,' Jack agreed absentmindedly. 'I think I'm sort of glad it's you and not just another guy, Ralph. I know what would have happened if it was. I'd flirt with him and coax him into bed. Then I'd fuck him for just one night. And that would be the end. I would not stay with him for long because I . . . I wouldn't care about him as much as I care about you.' At this, the teen's face turned a bright shade of red.

Ralph, however, did not see this. He had determinedly avoided his companion's gaze and stared instead at his feet.

'Please, Ralph, forgive me. What can I do to make it up to you?'

'Kiss me,' Ralph responded.

'What?' Jack inquired, obviously thinking he'd heard wrong.

'Kiss me!' Ralph repeated. 'I want to know if your feelings are real or if you're just making this shit up to win the bet.'

'Uh . . . Okay.' Then Jack leaned forwards to press his silky lips to Ralph's.

Ralph's response was hardly fervent. He moaned softly as Jack plunged a tongue into his mouth; he slowly stepped back to lean against the wall, in the pretense that his knees were growing weak. He made sure that he reacted just enough to fool Jack. The latter, after all, deserved it after the stunt he pulled. Although Ralph cared for his fellow student, he also wanted to hurt him. Hurt Jack just like Jack had hurt him. Ah, love. It was like a two-edged sword, whereas one both adored and loathed their infatuation.

Laughing bitterly, Ralph suddenly pushed Jack away and stepped back to survey the other teen.

'You can't fool me, Merridew. You're a good actor, but when you kiss me, I can still feel that there's something missing.'

With that said, he spun on his heel and re-entered the club (or was it pub?), leaving a very confused (and irritated) teenager in his wake.

-

"Fuck! I fucked up yet again!" Jack thought furiously. "Argh! The only way I can sleep with Ralph is if I prove that I care for him, but I can't even pretend to do that because I _don't_ care for him . . . or do I?" The teen mentally shook his head. "No. I don't care for him. I admire him, sure. I'm jealous of him even, but I don't _care_ for him. Not really."

Jack went back into the pub and started pacing the length of the room, heedless of all the weird stares he was getting because of it.

"I have to convince Ralph somehow! I have to win this bet!" Making up his mind, he began searching around for Ralph. He found the other hanging around the bar with Eddy, talking to him . . . At least, Jack _hoped_ he was just talking to him. But then he suddenly saw Ralph pat Eddy's arm. "He's flirting!" Jack thought, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Clenching his teeth, he stormed towards the two teens.

'What the hell is going on here?' he demanded.

'I'm just talking to my good _friend_ here,' Ralph explained, putting great emphasis on the word "friend". 'Just go away, Merridew.'

'Not until we talk, Ralph. We _have_ to talk!'

'No. I have nothing more to say to you. Get lost.'

'But—'

'You heard the man,' Eddy interrupted firmly. 'Get lost, Jack!'

Jack glared at Eddy for a moment.

'I wasn't talking to _you_.' Then he settled his best pleading look on Ralph. 'Please, Ralph,' he begged.

'No, Jack,' Ralph hissed. 'I just want you to leave me alone. I want nothing more to do with you! You've hurt me for the last time.'

For some reason, those words seemed to plunge a dagger straight into Jack's heart; he found himself speechless.

Apparently realizing that Jack still had no intention of leaving, Ralph simply said, 'Come on, Eddy. Let's get out of here.'

Eddy happily followed, shooting Jack a triumphant look.

'Fuck you, Eddy,' Jack muttered under his breath. 'You may have Ralph for now, but I _will_ steal him from you before the end. I _will_ win that bet.'

But was the bet really worth it if his friendship with Ralph was at stake?

-

Ralph guiltily bit his lip and tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He hadn't meant to treat Jack so harshly, but the latter deserved it! He should be happy that he got his revenge on Jack for trying to kill him on that island. Denying the other teen the only thing he wanted was like the ultimate vengeance! But . . . why then did Ralph feel so . . . depressed?

"I can't let my feelings for Jack get into the way of all this," Ralph thought. "He's the school slut, a guy who would give his body away to anyone who wanted it. My heart shouldn't be exposed to someone who would just break it. I shouldn't feel guilty about all this. He deserved it. Jack deserved what he got."

Ralph followed Eddy to the far end of the room, well away from Jack. Then the two of them sat down at an empty table. Neither was the first to strike up a conversation, so they merely sat in silence, comforted by each other's mere presence.

'I wish I never came here,' Ralph mumbled to himself. 'I wish none of this ever happened.'

'Sorry?' Eddy inquired.

Ralph shook his head and smiled.

'Nothing. Just forget it. I was talking to myself.'

'Oh.'

"Where has tonight led me?" Ralph asked himself, continuing his train of thought. "Nowhere! Sure, I had a bit of fun, but what's a bit of fun if I lost the only friend I had at this fucking school! What's a bit of fun when I lost my very pride through no fucking fault of my own? What's a bit of fun if I lost Jack! Just . . . Argh!"

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, for Eddy suddenly asked, 'Are you all right, Ralph?'

'Y-yeah,' Ralph stuttered. 'But . . . if it's all right with you, Eddy, I think I'd just like to go home.'

'No problem.'

And that's just what they did. Well, what Ralph did, anyway. Eddy was just the one who drove them there. Okay, I'm shutting up now.

-

That weekend was perhaps one of worse of Jack's life. Usually, he would go out with his friends or spend some time with his latest infatuation. However, this time, he just stayed at home and dwelled on his thoughts. He could hardly believe how much he had fucked up his relationship with Ralph. He was _so_ close, but then Ralph just _had_ to find out about the bet. What rotten luck.

'Jack! Where are you?' he heard his dad call for him drunkenly. That was one misfortune of staying at home—he had to constantly stay out of his dad's way, lest the latter was suddenly overcome by the need to beat something. By the sound of it, he seemed to be in that mood right now. He had been able to evade his father all of Saturday, but he was having doubts if he would be able to do it again.

'Jack?'

Jack did not answer, fearful of what his dad might do to him. He hoped that his father would simply think he wasn't home then.

'JACK! Get over here now!'

The teen fearfully crept into his closet and hid amongst the meager pile of clothes there. His home life was a wreck, but I hadn't always been that way. While he had been in middle school, he was Head Boy, leader of the choir, a straight-A student, and one of the most admired guys at his school. His parents were both very hard-working people with good jobs that brought in an immense amount of money. Life was good then.

And then Jack had ended up on that fucking island. His sudden disappearance made his father fall into a state of depression, which he sated with tremendous amounts of alcohol. It was a habit he couldn't quite get rid of, even after Jack's return. As such, Mr. Merridew lost his pride, his job, his sanity . . . even his son.

Mrs. Merridew, on the other hand, was still quite the same, though perhaps much busier after Jack's return. She had to work harder and longer to make up for her husband's lost expenses. She tried her best to give her son _the_ best, but what she could provide just wasn't enough. She couldn't handle supporting a family on her own. Thus, they had to move into a smaller house, a shabbier neighbourhood . . . They had to sell the majority of their belongings and cut down on their budget. She even had to fund her husband's drinking problem, for he constantly stole money from her purse to support his habit.

Still, she insisted that Jack attended only the finest schools and obtained the best of grades. She wanted him to have a future! At first, Jack tried his best to help his mother in any way he could. And, consequently, the whole "slut" thing had started. Because of the bets he made with his friends (and, indeed, the people who paid him for his services), he was able to basically support himself and depend less on his mother. Every now and then, he would even spoil himself by buying a new CD or something.

'JACK!' his drunken father called again, cutting into his thoughts. 'JACK!'

Jack curled up into a tight ball, hoping that his dad didn't bother to check on him . . . but he did. Jack jumped in shock when his father threw open the closet door and fixed his bleary gaze upon his son.

'What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?' he demanded, grabbing the teen's arm in a bruising grip.

'Ow!' Jack cried out in pain.

'You're supposed to _come_ when I call you!' Mr. Merridew tightened his grasp and used his other hand to land a forceful punch on Jack's cheek; his gold ring tore Jack's flesh, leaving a crimson streak in its wake.

'Stop, dad!' Jack pleaded. 'Please, stop!'

'Not until you learn your lesson.' With that said, the man threw Jack upon the hard, wooden floor and proceeded to land a few well-placed kicks just below his ribcage. 'What are you doing home, anyhow? Why aren't you out with those stupid friends of yours?'

'My . . . friends . . . aren't . . . stupid!' Jack gasped, clutching at his abdomen. The remark earned him nothing but another fierce punch on his face.

'They _are_ stupid! Why do you waste your time with a bunch of good-for-nothing bastards? You'll never amount to nothing!'

'Having you as my father doesn't help either,' the teen said through clenched teeth.

Mr. Merridew's temper reached its peak. He furiously grabbed Jack's collar and dragged him to the front door, effectively choking the life from him.

'Let go, you bastard!' Jack screamed, struggling to kick his father.

'Get out!' Mr. Merridew commanded, easily throwing Jack's slim form from the front porch. 'I never want to see you again, boy, you understand? You are to never set foot inside this house again!'

Jack could not reply, for the fall had knocked the very breath from his chest. He wheezed loudly and painstakingly clutched at the aching wounds on his stomach.

'And don't bother running to your little friends. I know where they live. I _will_ find you if you go to them.'

'You're such a fucking asshole!' Jack shouted suddenly, irritated by his father's drunken unreasonableness. A few drops of blood dripped from his mouth from the effort of yelling so. 'I hate you! I fucking hate you!'

In response, Jack's dad simply slammed the door shut.

'Ohh . . .' Jack groaned. 'I have to get out of here.' Knowing his father's threat to be genuine, he knew that he could never go to one of his friends' houses. That left only one person. 'Ralph . . .'


	13. A Time to Forgive?

**(13) A Time to Forgive?**

'What the fuck are you doing here, Merridew?' Ralph inquired furiously when he saw said teen kneeling on his front porch. His expression soon transformed to one of sympathy, however, when he saw the state that Jack was in. 'What happened?'

'Can I come in?' Jack begged, nervously glancing over his shoulder, as if he were watching out for someone.

'Um . . . Yeah,' Ralph said after a moment's hesitation. Still angry at the other teen, he made no mood to help Jack as the latter crawled into the house.

'I need your help, Ralph,' Jack said softly. 'I know that you must fucking hate me, but you know that I wouldn't come here unless I had no other choice.'

'What happened?' Ralph asked again.

'My father . . .' Jack broke off for a moment, then, 'My father . . . beat me.'

A wave of pity stormed through Ralph and he said, 'Have a seat on the couch or something. I'll go get you some ice.' When he left to go to the kitchen, Ralph hastily tried to gather his thoughts. Jack's father _beat_ him? Personally, Ralph preferred his father's ignorance. At least he never got hurt. Emotionally, getting beaten by one's own parent must be most unbearable.

Shaking these thoughts from his mind, Ralph hurriedly retrieved an ice pack from the freezer before returning to the waiting teen.

'Here,' Ralph said, placing the ice pack in Jack's hand. 'It's not much, but it'll help numb the pain.'

'Thanks,' Jack murmured.

Silence fell upon them, then Ralph reluctantly asked, 'Has he beaten you before?'

'Yeah,' Jack admitted. 'But he kicked me out of the house this time, too.'

'Why didn't you go to Lee's house? Or John's? Or Terry's?'

'My dad threatened to hunt me down.' Jack grimaced. 'You don't know my dad. When he threatens people, you had better take it seriously . . . or else! He always keeps his promises.'

Ralph nodded absentmindedly.

'How long have you been kicked out for? Forever?'

'Not likely,' Jack said with a grimace. 'He'll eventually pass out soon from his drunkenness and forget this ever happened.'

'Then where are you going to go in the meantime?' he inquired.

Jack shrugged.

'I was just planning on going home in a few hours. You know, once Dad is too drunk to even notice I'm there.'

'How would you know if he's drunk _enough_, though? Are you sure it's . . . er, safe for you to go back home today?'

'I'll be okay,' Jack shrugged again, then flinched when the repeated motion caused him pain. 'And I'll be safe enough for a few days, or at least until he gets into this . . . mood again.'

'I see . . .' Ralph wanted Jack to hurt, hurt as much as Ralph did. But this . . . this was too much. 'Where are you going to stay in the meantime?' It was rather odd how Ralph's anger towards the other teen disappeared for the sake of sympathy.

'I don't know,' Jack responded. 'Outside, I guess.'

'Outside?' Ralph echoed. 'You'll freeze! You don't even have your jacket!'

'I've done it before,' Jack said indifferently. 'I always get a hell of a high fever in the wintertime, but I'll be okay if it's only for a few hours.'

'No,' Ralph said firmly. 'You're going to stay here. As soon as my mum gets home from the grocery store, I'll ask her for permission. It should be. I mean, I don't think she'll want you to spend the night outside.'

'Really?'

'Sure.'

Jack spared Ralph a small smile.

'Thanks, Ralph. It really means a lot to me, especially after the stunt I pulled.'

Ralph smiled in return.

'Go on upstairs and rest in the guestroom for a bit. It's the third door on the left. I'll be up in a minute. I just need to get you some bandages and stuff for your cuts.'

'Okay,' Jack said, wincing slightly as he stood up from the plush armchair he had been sitting in. 'Great. Thanks, Ralph.'

-

By the time Ralph got upstairs, Jack had already shed his shirt and was intently surveying the injuries on his stomach. They didn't seem too bad, not as bad as the last time, anyhow. He had a few baseball-size bruises and some cuts where the skin broke. He maybe even had a few cracked ribs. His wounds hurt like hell, but—overall—they weren't that bad.

'Fuck,' Ralph muttered the moment he stepped into the room.

'Yeah,' Jack halfheartedly agreed.

Ralph shook his head slightly to rid himself of the shock. Then he said, 'Lie down on your back.'

Jack did so without hesitation, trusting Ralph's intentions. After all, the latter _did_ offer him a place to stay, even after learning of the bet. Jack heard Ralph sigh softly in hesitation. Then he felt a wet cloth bathe his upper body. He hissed in pain when the cloth grazed one of his more severe injuries.

'It'll be over in a sec,' Ralph reassured him.

Jack exhaled loudly and allowed the other teen to continue. He could feel Ralph now working a rather thick ointment into his skin, which was likely to help the wounds heal.

'Done,' Ralph said. 'Only your face is left.' He moved to sit on the bed area by Jack's head. Then he slowly gave the latter's face the same treatment as his torso. He seemed to take great care when washing Jack's face, and Jack couldn't help but notice that Ralph was avoiding his gaze.

'Look at me, Ralph,' he requested softly. Requested, not demanded.

Ralph reluctantly did so, dropping the cloth in the process.

'I really _am _sorry about the bet,' Jack said sincerely. 'I didn't know it would hurt you this much.' He sighed. 'Even after all that shit I did, you still agreed to help me. You're a good friend, Ralph.'

Ralph's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'I wish I could say the same about you, Merridew.' Then he continued to treat Jack's face. When he finished, he simply got up and said, 'Go to sleep now. I'll wake you later.' And he left.

Jack inwardly cursed himself, knowing that—of the two of them—Ralph was undoubtedly the better person. Jack knew that if their positions had been reversed, the last thing he would want to do was help Ralph.

"I guess that's just what makes him so special," he decided. After pulling the thick covers over him, Jack curled his body up and went to sleep.

-

When Ralph's mother got home, he immediately went to ask her if Jack could stay.

'Of course,' she said kindly, once Ralph had explained the situation. 'The poor dear. Our house will be open to him as long as he needs it.'

'Hopefully he won't need it that long,' the teen muttered bitterly.

'What was that, darling?' his mother asked.

He hastily shook his head.

'Nothing. I was just thinking aloud. I . . . er . . . Yeah, thanks for letting him stay, mum,' he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. 'You're the best . . . By the way, when will dinner be ready? I'm starving!'

'We can eat as soon as your father gets home,' she replied. 'I expect he will bring something.'

'When will he be here?'

'In about . . .' She consulted her wristwatch. ' . . . Ten minutes. He didn't have to work too late this evening.'

'Okay, perfect. I'll just go wake up Jack then.' Ralph jogged up the stairs to the guestroom, where he found Jack sleeping peacefully, the plush blankets wrapped tightly around his body.

The latter suddenly shifted in his sleep, causing the bedsheet to fall down to his waist.

"He sleeps just like a baby," Ralph observed, his gaze casually sweeping over the other teen's exposed body.

Jack's torso was quite lean and, even with the wounds marring his skin, it was rather attractive to behold. His firm muscles rippled slightly with each breath he took; his chiseled chest rose and fell accordingly.

"Though his looks prove that he is far from one," Ralph thought, exhaling somewhat noisily. Quietly moving to the bedside, the teen hesitantly poked at Jack's arm.

'Jack?' he called softly. 'It's time to wake up now, Jack.'

But Jack didn't move.

Sighing again, Ralph sat down at the edge of the bed and brushed a few strands of hair from Jack's face.

'Things haven't changed between us, have they, Jack Merridew?' he inquired of the sleeping form. 'You're still that same bastard you were on the island, but now you have the reputation of a prostitute as well.' He smiled bitterly. 'Just yesterday, before I found out about that stupid bet, I thought you had changed, I really did. You seemed so . . . kind, so helpful. I was beginning to like that. God knows how much I preferred that "fake" you to the person you really are.'

Jack subconsciously turned over, moving the bed slightly.

'I still can't believe you got involved in that stupid bet,' Ralph said for what must have been the thousandth time. 'The person I thought you were would never have done something like that, and it broke my heart to realize that you hadn't changed.' Hot tears formed in his eyes. 'That guy you pretended to be was the one I really liked. Did it ever enter your mind that I might even . . . love him?'

'No, it didn't.'

Ralph froze and stared into Jack's now-open eyes.

'I thought you were asleep,' Ralph remarked.

'I was.'

'How much did you hear?'

'Enough,' Jack said, sitting up and weakly leaning against he headboard.

Ralph hastily wiped the tears from his eyes.

'You weren't supposed to hear that.'

'But I did,' Jack said. 'Did you really mean it, what you said?'

'Yes,' Ralph said sheepishly. 'I wouldn't have said it if I didn't . . . That's what makes you so different from I.'

Jack bit his bottom lip, knowing that Ralph was probably right.

'I'm sorry, Ralph. I didn't know. Oh, fuck, I didn't know.' Jack's brows furrowed in agitation.

'Do you care for me, Jack?' Ralph asked, noticing the other's distress. 'Do you care for me even a little? I want the truth this time, not just some shit you make up to win the bet . . . Do you care for me?'

'I thought I didn't,' Jack replied. 'I even tried to convince myself that I didn't. Being a heartless asshole just made living a whole lot easier, then I could never get hurt. But then visions of your dark eyes and perfect face would crowd my mind and remind me just how wonderful you were. The memories were stronger than the thoughts.'

His words inflicted something deep within Ralph. He surprised both Jack and himself when he suddenly leaned over to kiss the school slut.

-

Jack froze in shock, but then he soon responded by moving his lips along the perimeter of Ralph's in a teasing manner. The bedsheet slipped further, revealing more of his slender form. He shivered in anticipation when Ralph's hands gently wrapped around his bare torso, as if afraid he would run away.

"I would never run from you, Ralph," Jack mentally told the other teen. "Things are just too perfect . . . yet too wrong!" It was obvious to Jack what his companion wanted, but he didn't want to treat Ralph like he did everybody else. Inside, Jack didn't really want to do this. Did that mean he cared for Ralph as more than a friend? Well, unlikely, but he cared for the other teen just enough not to do this to him. Ralph deserved better than the same wretched treatment the others got. He pulled away from the kiss before things went too far.

Ralph stared at him in shock, his lips still coloured and swollen from the intense kiss they shared.

'Jack?' he inquired softly. As if snapping back into his senses, he suddenly shook his head and said, 'I'm such a fucking idiot! When will I learn that baring my heart to you leads to nowhere but pain!' He sighed dejectedly. 'I should have realized that this was all just a dream, and everyone has to wake up from their dreams sometime.'

Jack brought his hand up to press his fingers onto his lips, marveling at the tingly feeling that lingered in them.

Ralph followed his movement and added, 'At least I could live my dream for a moment longer.' Another sigh, then, 'Maybe it will be best for both of us if you don't stay the night.'

'If that's what will make you . . . happy,' Jack responded rather shakily. 'But please, Ralph, know that I didn't do that to spite you. I—'

Suddenly, Mrs. Macpherson suddenly called for them to go downstairs, unintentionally interrupting his words.

'Ralph! Your father is here.'

Jack ignored her and continued.

'—I did it because—'

'Get down here, boys! It's time to eat. You should come down now while the food is still hot!'

'—because I—'

'RALPH! Can you even hear me! Come down, dear. It's a school day tomorrow, and you and your friend will need to sleep!'

'We'll be right there!' Ralph responded irritably; he turned back to Jack. 'Sorry about that . . . You were saying . . .?'

Jack stared at him for a moment. Then he just shook his head.

'Never mind. Come on, Ralph. You're mother is waiting.'

-

On the way home the next morning, Jack's thoughts ever dwelled on a certain someone with chocolate-coloured eyes and impossibly smooth skin, someone with a heart-stopping smile and the kindest of hearts. The Macphersons had treated him with the greatest hospitality possible, constantly giving him unnecessary comforts without him even having to ask for them.

"Oh, Ralph," Jack thought disconsolately, tiredly dragging his feet along. "You deserve someone so much better than me. What can _I_, Jack Merridew, give you in return for your endless compassion?"

'Hi, Jack,' someone greeted him, scaring the hell out of him.

'Oh . . . Hi, Ray,' he replied, clutching at his chest. Either the teen had sneaked up on him so quietly that he didn't notice, or he was too deep in his thoughts to notice anything! It was probably the latter. Really, a hoard of elephants could have stampeded past him and he'd hardly realize it.

'Sorry about that, ol' chap,' Ray said cheerfully. 'Didn't mean to give you a fright.'

'A "fright"? You almost gave me a friggin' heart attack!'

'Ah, so you _do_ have a heart . . . And does that heart have any room in it for Ralph?'

'WHAT!' Jack exclaimed, bug-eyed.

'Well, you obviously care very much for him,' Ray said confidently.

'Oh, and where did you get that idea from?'

'You.'

'I'm afraid I don't understand.'

'I've notice you've been holding back, Jack,' Ray replied, casually leaning against a nearby fence.

'What the hell are you talking about? I've been beating my ass off trying to win this fucking bet!'

'Yes, "trying", but does that imply "wanting" to win as well. Is this a bet you really _want_ to win, Jack Merridew?'

Jack found himself unable to reply. When he did, it was only to sheepishly say, 'I don't know anymore.'

'Just think about that, Jack,' Ray said with a wink. 'You'll win the bet and keep your reputation intact, but what will those be worth in comparison to losing the one thing you really want?'

'If you're talking about Ralph . . .'

'Bye, Jack. Talk to you later,' Ray said with a broad grin before he disappeared around the corner.

Jack hastily dodged around the corner to confront the other teen, but Ray had already gone.

'Fuck, that kid is fast,' he murmured half-heartedly. Sighing, he began the long trek home.

Not even a half-hour later, Jack was startled once more by someone calling out his name.

'MERRIDEW! HEY, JACK! STOP!'

Clutching weakly at his still-aching ribs, Jack slowly turned around. The breath was soon knocked out of his chest when someone gave him a breath-wrenching hug.

'Oof! Oh, h-hi, Terry.'

'Jack! I'm so glad we found you!' Terry said. 'We've been so worried about you, bud.'

'R-really?' Jack responded, vainly trying to detach himself from his friend. 'Who's "we"?'

'That "we" includes me,' John explained breathlessly. His thin face was flushed with sweat and he was furiously attempting to get rid of the stitch on his side. It was apparent that he had been running to catch up with Terry. Poor guy. He was so unused to the whole "athletic" thing.

'Us, too!' Fred piped up as he and Lee suddenly appeared. 'We came from a different way. That's why it took us so long to catch up to John,' he added, as if trying to explain why the un-athletic one of the group had beaten him in the race to find the teenager.

Jack smiled.

'Well, isn't this just a merry reunion,' he said. 'What's up? Why were you all looking for me?'

'Your dad came by our houses looking for you,' John replied solemnly.

'Ah, well, it's good to see that his threat did not go by unnoticed,' Jack said with false joy. 'You all know what he threatened to do, right?'

'Yeah,' Lee responded. 'It was pretty easy after he said, "That boy better not be here, or else I'll _kill_ him!"'

'I see . . .' Jack said slowly. 'How did you know I would be here?'

'We didn't,' John said, shrugging. 'It was just a lucky guess, but I figured that you would rather go to Ralph's house than, say, your previous infatuations.'

Jack just shook his head and lightheartedly punched John in the shoulder.

'But where are you going to go now, Jack?' Fred asked concernedly.

'Well, Ralph's mum has been real nice about the whole . . . situation.' He calmly lifted his shirt to show his friends the numerous bandages that were strapped to his side. 'Ralph, too. I reckon I can come back here if need be. For now, though, I'd just like to go home. I'm dead tired.' Jack did not care to explain why he was so tired. How could he tell his friends that he had spent a sleepless night at the Macphersons' house just because mere _thoughts_ had consumed him?

The night before, Jack had spent hours on end just thinking about Ralph. The latter was just down the corridor from him, yet he could not find the courage to take those few steps and talk to him. He was wondering where the future would lead them, whether or not Ralph could ever forgive him for the stupid bet. After his talk with Ray that morning, Jack was starting to doubt if he himself even wanted to win.

And if even he did, what then?

Question after question probed his mind that night, each followed by one that was even more impossible to answer. But there was one thing Jack knew for sure: he could _not_ win that bet. If he did, he would just chalk it up with all his other wins, and Ralph would be out of his life forever.

No, he could not possibly win that bet _and_ maintain the most important relationship in his life, the one he shared with Ralph.

'It looks like this is _game over_,' Jack forlornly murmured to himself. As he trudged along the uneven sidewalk, he turned back once. Only once. 'See you tomorrow, Ralph.'


	14. Only Two Days Left!

**(14) Only Two Days Left!**

'It's good to see you're still alive,' was Ralph's greeting to Jack on the school bus the next day.

'Yeah,' Jack agreed half-heartedly. He shifted his bag over for Ralph to sit beside him, which the other teen did (after some minor hesitation).

'So I guess your dad _was_ unconscious when you got home then?'

'Just about . . . Still, I didn't want to press my luck. I just ran in and out. Almost broke my leg in the process, too.'

Ralph let out a soft chuckle, and Jack sighed softly at how innocently attractive he looked when he was in this easygoing mood.

"I may have changed a lot, but he certainly hasn't," Jack mused. "He's still the same old Ralphy—kind (perhaps to a fault), devoted, beautiful, strong, and always having the faintest trace of honey on his skin." The teen felt an emotional lump form in his throat, and he (unsuccessfully) struggled to swallow it. "I promise I won't hurt him. Oh, God, whatever happens, please just let me keep him."

'Penny for your thoughts?' Ralph teased, breaking into his silently pleading mind. 'Or fifty bucks if your arrogance makes you believe that you deserve more.'

It was Jack's turn to chuckle now.

'My, my, someone is in a fine mood this morning,' he said with a grin. 'What? Did my radiant presence at your otherwise dull house spark your fancy?'

Ralph's face reddened in embarrassment.

'Uh . . . I . . . er, I . . . I . . .'

'Save it, Ralph,' Jack laughed, firmly pressing a finger to the other's lips. 'I was just teasing. And you're the one who started it, anyhow!'

'Well, what are you going to do about it?' Ralph asked, and the "L" sound at the end of the word "well" caused his tongue to briefly flicker across Jack's finger. The latter snatched his hand away and stared at his companion with lust-darkened eyes, for the unusual sensation had sent a rush of blood straight . . . down there.

'Nothing,' Jack said smoothly, casually pulling his bag onto his lap to hide the growing bulge in his pants. 'That is to say, I won't do anything _yet_.'

'Oh?'

'That's right. You know that I've never been one to back down from a challenge, especially one where a tease is involved.'

Something flashed across Ralph's features, but the strange expression disappeared almost as fast as it had come, leaving Jack no time to decipher what it was.

'Um . . . Oh, look, Jack! We seemed to have arrived at school,' Ralph said nervously. He snatched his backpack from the floor and beat a hasty retreat out of there.

Jack smiled knowingly to himself, for he had been unable to overlook a certain protuberance in the other teen's trousers that was almost identical to his own.

'Interesting . . .' he slowly said to himself. 'Very interesting . . .'

-

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Ralph cursed inwardly as he wove his way through the crowd. "Argh! I have to get rid of this . . . thing!" Almost tripping himself, Ralph shoved his way into the nearest restroom and locked himself in a stall.

'Okay, think neutral thoughts . . .' he told himself. 'Books, music . . . uh, sports! Food . . . Cars . . .' He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that his little "buddy" had almost disappeared. 'Computers, sand . . .'

Problem solved!

"Whew, that was close," Ralph thought. "Oh, fucker, I hope Jack didn't notice anything."

Picking up his book-laden school bag, the teen finally left the bathroom and made his way to his locker. He just hoped that Jack wouldn't be there when he arrived.

"So much for wishful thinking," he thought bitterly as he set eyes upon the familiar features of said teenager.

'Hey,' Jack greeted him. 'You okay, Ralph? You really left in a hurry earlier.'

'Er . . . Yeah, sorry about that. I had some . . . stuff that I had to take care of.' Well, it wasn't a lie . . . not really.

'I bet you did,' Jack muttered under his breath, and Ralph wisely chose to ignore the comment.

'Excuse me,' the latter murmured, lightly inclining Jack to the side so that he could obtain the use of their locker. Messily exchanging the books in his bag for a different set, he wrenched his backpack closed before hissing a hasty goodbye to Jack. 'See you in first period,' he called over his shoulder. Then he hastily shoved his way through the crowd of people, well aware of the intense gaze digging into the back of his head.

"He knows what happened," Ralph realized with a sinking heart. "Oh, why the fuck can't I control myself around him! This situation can't possible get any worse."

Wrong again.

The very breath was knocked out of the teen's chest as he collided with something rather large and hard, which caused him to lose his footing and land ungracefully upon the cold tiles of the floor. Unfortunately, the fall also forced Ralph to loosen his grip on his slightly open bag; all his papers and books piled out in an untidy heap.

'FUCK!' Ralph cursed, watching in despair as all his effortful homework was trampled on and ruined by the heedless crowd. 'Fuck . . .' he swore again when he realized who he had bumped into, though it was much quieter this time, for reasons that are about to be unveiled.

'Do watch where you are going!' Mr. Lyori scolded him. The cold-hearted professor furiously took out a white handkerchief and began to wipe the spilt coffee from his chest. The stain, however, would not come out and Ralph had a strong suspicion that he would get sorely punished for his negligence.

'I am truly sorry, sir,' the teen said, rising to his feet to look the teacher in the eye. 'I did not mean to collide with you like that. I'll be sure to be more careful in the future.'

'And you will do well to remember it, Mr. . . .?'

'Macpherson,' Ralph replied with a sigh.

'Ah, Mr. Macpherson . . . You are one of Mr. Merridew's friends, are you not?'

'Hardly,' Ralph responded. He knew of Mr. Lyori only by reputation, but already he could feel hatred building in his chest for this strange professor.

'Indeed? Well, that "hardly" entitles you to be treated any more favourably,' Mr. Lyori sneered. 'Detention, Mr. Macpherson, for both tonight, tomorrow, and tomorrow's tomorrow night.'

Ralph would have laughed had the circumstances not been so grave. One would think a teacher would know better than to use such grammar as "tomorrow's tomorrow".

'Pardon me for asking, but why must I have three, sir?'

The teacher grinned almost wickedly.

'May the first do well to remind you that clumsiness is an unnecessary aspect of anyone's life, Mr. Macpherson, and such carelessness will lead you nowhere. The second is for your inappropriate use of language. This is a private school, and I will not tolerate any of the students using such foul words.'

'And the third?'

'For my shirt,' Mr. Lyori simply said; then added, 'I hope you do not have any previous engagements at those times.'

'No, sir.'

'Good. You are to report to the Detention Hall today after school . . . and don't be late.' He turned to leave. 'Oh, and if you are unsure of where it is, ask one of your little friends. I'm sure Mr. Merridew will be able to tell you. God knows that he has been there enough times to be able to find it in the dark.'

As if on cue, the lights suddenly went off.

'Bugger it all!' Ralph heard Mr. Lyori say before the unmistakable sound of footsteps faded into the distance.

People started to shove him about carelessly, all asking each other the same question: What happened?

'Come on, Ralph,' someone urged, taking him gently by the hand.

'What about my stuff?' he questioned the unknown shadow in front of him.

'It'll be all right. Just come _on_!'

Ralph felt himself being pulled against the throng of people, but there was something about the grip on his hand that made him want to trust this person. Blindly tightening his grasp, he followed the stranger into one of the classrooms.

'Ah, this should do nicely,' the other said, flicking on a flashlight.

The teen blinked a few times, having been overwhelmed by the sudden flash of light. He groaned in exasperation when he realized that it had not been a classroom he'd been dragged into . . . but a broom closet.

'So, how are you, mate?'

Ralph turned his still-unfocused gaze to his companion.

'Oh, hello, Ray,' he said calmly. 'And I am just fine, thank you very much.'

'That's not what I meant, Ralph, and you know it,' Ray said seriously.

Ralph stared his former friend down for a few seconds. Then he determinedly looked away.

'Come on, _please_ don't say you're still mad at me!' the Aussie exclaimed.

"Okay, I won't," Ralph thought. "In fact, I won't say anything to you at all."

'Ralph, I really, truly am sorry for what I did. It was stupid! I made a stupid mistake! Look, I know that it will probably take you a while before you forgive me—if you even do at all—but I think that we should give our friendship another try. Come on, what do you say?'

Ralph rolled this over in his mind. He felt a slight obligation to give Ray a second chance. After all, he gave Jack one, and said teen did worse things to him than involve him in such a . . . ahem, sexual bet. It just wouldn't be fair to Ray if he was never forgiven as well. Besides, Ralph knew that he would feel incredibly guilty if he did not give his companion the second chance he deserved.

'I forgive you, Ray,' Ralph said, raising his head up to meet his friend's eye. 'You were my first friend in this school, and friends always deserve second chances.' He smiled sweetly and clapped Ray heartily on the shoulder.

'What? Don't I get a hug?' Ray teased.

'Depends . . . Would you like one?'

'Yes.'

'On one condition.'

'What's that?' Ray questioned, genuinely curious now.

'No more bets . . . and that _includes_ this one,' Ralph said seriously.

Ray smiled radiantly.

'You got it, mate.'

Then the two friends embraced tightly, savouring the moment with closed eyes and open hearts. And to think, by the mere shake of his head, Ralph could have given this up. It was rather odd how quickly everything could be affected by the simplest actions.

Suddenly, the door whipped open and a stream of light washed into the tiny closet. The two teens jumped apart, staring blindly at the newcomer. The power had apparently returned without them knowing, and the unexpected beams burned unpleasantly into their eyes after the cloaking darkness of their sanctuary.

'What's going on here?' a familiar voice demanded.

Ralph hurriedly rubbed his eyes to better see the person before him and, indeed, confirm that who it was.

'JACK!' he exclaimed. 'It's . . . it's not what you think.'

'Oh, isn't it?' Jack inquired, though his gaze never turned to Ralph. Instead, he was looking upon Ray with the most intense loathing shadowing his eyes.

'It's not! Nothing happened!' Ralph insisted. He hurried to Jack's side and desperately tried to draw him away from the other teen. 'Come on, Jack. Let's just go.' He turned apologetic eyes in Ray's direction, a gaze that promised an explanation at a later time.

'I'm coming,' Jack said blankly. 'But only after I do this.'

WHAM!

Having said that, Jack swung his fist into Ray's face, almost knocking the latter clean off his feet. Almost. Rather, Ray stumbled over a nearby bucket, soothingly cupping his cheek in disbelief.

'What the fuck is your problem, Jack?' Ralph demanded. 'Why don't you believe me when I say that _nothing_ happened!'

Jack finally turned his vehement gaze in the other's direction. He said nothing. He just stared and stared.

'Come on!' Ralph growled furiously, taking his companion in tow. 'We need to talk. I'll see you later, Ray,' he automatically called over his shoulder.

'Later, mate.'

-

Now that the power had returned, the students were making their way to their homeroom classes, excitedly conversing about the slight power outage that had occurred. But Jack was quite oblivious to all this. He followed blankly as Ralph let him through the emptying corridors, asking himself the same question over and over: Why did I do that?

Obviously, he had grown extremely jealous over seeing Ralph with another guy. Ralph was _his_ man—no one else's. But . . . why?

"I've never felt this way about anyone," Jack thought. "I wonder where he's taking me. Somewhere private? Somewhere special?" Then he suddenly realized which hallway they had just entered. "Somewhere . . . stupid!" He groaned inwardly as he stepped under the arched doorway of the library.

'So . . . what are we going to talk about?' he asked cheerfully.

'No. _I_ am going to talk, and _you_ are going to listen,' Ralph said, unconsciously tightening his grip on Jack's hand.

The latter grinned and allowed himself to be swept into one of the more private study rooms, a place where they were unlikely to be disturbed (not even by the ever-present librarian; she probably learned her lesson after coming across Jack _that_ time). Jack's expression soon become less than placid, however, when he was brutally shoved into a chair and his hands were locked at his sides by Ralph's own.

'First things first . . . I do _not_ need a keeper, Jack!' Ralph exclaimed, glaring Jack in the eye from only a few inches away. 'You had absolutely no right to do that to Ray! I told you before and I'll tell you again—nothing happened! We were just hugging. What's so wrong about that? Don't answer that,' Ralph said quickly, cutting off Jack's unformed sentence. 'Look, Ray and I are just friends . . . There's nothing that I want from him than friendship.'

'And what about me?' Jack questioned timidly.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, obviously you want more from me than friendship.' He attempted to stand up, but Ralph's grip firmly held him down. He glanced pointedly at his companion's hands; the latter nodded and finally let go.

'You were saying?'

'Ah, yes, I was saying that you want more from than friendship.' Jack steadily stood up and looked intensely into Ralph's features. 'It's true, isn't it?'

'It is,' Ralph agreed, 'but it's also wrong. I'm not supposed to want this from you. But then again, after you tried to _kill _me and made a stupid, sexual bet that _involved_ me, I suppose that there is nothing else that I should want more.'

'And what _is _it you want from me? Do you even know, Ralph?'

Angry tears welled up in Ralph's eyes and a look of disbelief cross his face, as if he couldn't believe that the tables could be turned so rapidly.

'Respect,' he said brokenly. 'Love.' Then his expression suddenly hardened and he added, 'But the heart of Jack Merridew is incapable of any of that.'

'How can you say that after all we've been through over this past week?' Jack asked, rather hurt.

'Because none of it matters.'

'What? Why not?'

'Because it was never meant to happen.'

'But it _did_!' Jack sighed in exasperation. 'That has to count for something.'

'But the bet—'

'ARGH! Don't start talking about that fucking bet again!' Jack almost screamed, startling the wits out of Ralph. 'You said it yourself, if it hadn't been for that "stupid bet", we wouldn't have gotten as close as we did. Please, Ralph, can't you just forget that this whole thing ever happened? In all honesty, if I could take it all back, I would! But . . . I can't! Look, how are we supposed to have a future together if you can't even let go of the past?'

'I want to forgive you, Jack. Hell, I probably already have. And God knows that it's a lot easier to forgive you of this than it is to forgive you for trying to kill me.' He allowed a small smile to appear on his face. 'J-just give me some more time, okay?'

'Okay, Ralph, I'll give you time. But just know that you can either be with me and _risk_ losing me, or push me away and _surely_ lose me. I'm only human, Ralph Macpherson. I can't wait forever—not even for someone as wonderful as you are.' He spun around to leave.

'Wait! Don't go yet,' Ralph pleaded.

Jack slowly turned to face his distressed companion.

"Isn't it ironic?" he thought. "When he wants us to be together, _I _don't want us to. When I want us to be together, _he_ doesn't want us to. Sigh."

'Please, Jack . . .'

'What? Do you want another kiss?' Jack mocked. 'Is that what our relationship is going to be like now, Ralph? Two friends on the surface, but whom sneak insignificant kisses at every opportune moment!'

'There's hardly anything "insignificant" about your kisses,' Ralph said quietly.

'Am I supposed to be flattered? Well, I'm not!' Jack smirked to himself. 'Actually, I am. But still, Ralph, come on! There's more between us than that. You know that!'

'Oh? And _this _is coming from the school whore!'

"Ouch."

'But you agree that there _is_ something between us?'

Ralph closed his eyes.

'Yes.'

'Then what's the problem? Why can't we be together?'

'I . . . I don't know!' Ralph exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in agitation. 'When I'm away from you I feel . . . and when I'm with you it's like . . .' Such was his distress that the teen was unable to complete a full sentence.

'You feel like the world just fell apart and glued itself back together again?' Jack suggested. 'Like the universe just collapsed into oblivion and was re-formed in a matter of seconds? Like time is so still that everything seems to pass you by at the speed of light?' He gently took the other's hand in his. 'I feel all those things, too, Ralph. And when I'm with you, when we're together, everything just feels so . . . right!'

'But _I_ have bore my heart to you before, Jack Merridew, and it seems to lead me to nowhere but pain. You're the fucking school whore, for goodness' sake!' Ralph suddenly grinned. 'Ignore the pun.'

'I am not the school whore,' Jack retorted. 'I _was _the school whore. And yeah, I had some fun times, but now I'm willing to give it all up for you. What happened, Ralph? Only a few days ago you were willing to give up everything for me—even your own beliefs—and now . . .'

'I did some serious thinking over the weekend,' Ralph said. 'And I thought I had made up my mind about you, but then you showed up on my doorstep on Sunday and everything got all screwed up from there.'

'Give me a chance to prove myself to you,' Jack begged.

'What? To prove you aren't a whore?'

'Well, yeah,' the teen admitted sheepishly. 'But then again, I will be if you want me to be . . . but only for you.'

'You're really weird, Merridew, but what you said was kind of sweet,' Ralph said, stroking Jack's cheek tenderly. 'Okay, I'll give you two days. If you still haven't proved yourself by that time, then I guess—' Ralph shrugged, '—it was never meant to be.'

"Two days. My trial period will end the same day the bet does!" Jack vaguely thought, but he also realized that he didn't care anymore, not now that he finally had Ralph just within his grasp.

'Okay, two days,' Jack agreed. Then he leaned in to plant a chaste kiss on the other's cheek. He was rather surprised when Ralph turned his face, thus causing their lips to meet instead. What started out as a simple kiss soon became much, much more. Jack sneakily slid his tongue between the silken petals of Ralph's lips. He then tasted the hot flesh that was offered to him, laying claim to every inch of it.

Ralph groaned passionately and pressed himself firmly against Jack's hard body; he marveled at the way they seemed to fit so perfectly together. He wrapped his arms tightly around the latter's neck and widened the opening of his mouth for a deeper invasion.

'Wait!' Jack cried out, wrenching himself away from Ralph. But he soon soothed the worried expression on his companion's face with a reassuring smile. 'Don't look at me that way, Macpherson. It's not that I don't want to. It's that we shouldn't do this . . . not here and not now. We have a class to get to.'

'Since when have you been so concerned about school?'

'Since _your_ grades depended on my decisions,' Jack replied with a wink.

Ralph chuckled softly and the two of them made their way to their homeroom, stooping down to collect Ralph's scattered belongings on their way. Unknown to the two teens, a dark shadow followed closely behind them, wandering just beyond their range of view each time they turned around. Whether its presence was for the better or for the worse remains to be seen . . .


	15. Ray's Secret

**(15) Ray's Secret**

All in all, the day had passed rather uneventfully for Ralph. It was just another average day in a not-so-average high school. The only difference was that Ralph had the echoes of his own voice in his head this time, concerning Jack's time limit to prove himself.

"Two days," he had said.

Why, though? Why _two_ days? Ralph honestly did not know why he chose that particular day, only that it was almost as if someone was whispering said day into his ear. It was rather . . . surreal when one thought about it.

Sighing softly to himself, the teen stored his belongings in his locker and made his way to the cafeteria . . . alone, for Jack had not been there when he arrived.

'Hey,' he said to Ray in a friendly tone, having already forgiven him. 'What's up?'

'The ceiling,' the other said with a smile. 'What's up with you?'

'Oh, nothing much,' Ralph replied. However, a faint blush crept up his cheeks at the memory of his little library escapade with Jack. Turning away in embarrassment, Ralph sat down beside his friend and busied himself for a moment with his lunch bag.

'That adorable blush on your cheeks, like, wouldn't have anything to do with your experiences in the library, would it, mate?' Ray questioned in a would-be innocent voice.

'I . . . I don't know what you're talking about,' Ralph responded quickly; his flush deepened attractively.

'Oh, come on, Ralph! I may not be a know-all mind reader,' Ray said, waving his arms around in a "spooky" fashion, 'but I _do_ know that you do things in the library besides reading.' He coughed fakely and sat back in his chair with an overtly smug grin on his face.

'You saw us?' Ralph hissed in disbelief, not wanting to raise his voice and cause a commotion.

'Aye, m'lord,' Ray replied teasingly.

'Aw, just forget it, Ray,' Ralph said, and he slapped the other teen lightly on the shoulder. 'It was only a kiss, after all.'

'"Only" a kiss?' the Aussie echoed. 'Ralph, that was not "only" a kiss. "Only" a kiss would be kissing the top of a new car. You looked like you were trying to swallow his tongue.'

If possible, the statement seemed only to further Ralph's embarrassment; his face almost resembled a ripe turnip by now.

'Shut up,' he muttered half-heartedly. 'Not like you haven't done anything like that before.' Though Ralph had not seen any actual proof of Ray's exploits, he knew them to be there.

'Hey, don't bring _me_ into this. We were talking about _you_, remember?'

Ralph rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Just then, an extremely loud voice was heard, carrying over their conversation as well as many others.

'Hey, dudes! This is JD 1, your student council prime minister, speaking. Boy, do we have a lovely treat for you today!'

Intrigued, Ralph craned his neck to search for the owner of the sudden vocals. He noticed that in the corner, a small platform had been erected, complete with a microphone, some stereos, and a CD player. A tall, long-haired brunet was currently speaking into the mike, making his "grand" announcement.

'Our teacher supervisor, the newly-wedded Mrs. Wynta—'

A quite rowdy applause interrupted his speech and it was obvious that Mrs. Wynta was one of the more favoured persons of the school faculty. Being a twenty-something young woman and all, her flawless beauty was doubtlessly recognized amongst the students she taught . . . er, and then some.

'Ahem, as I was saying,' JD said sternly, trying to recapture his audience's attention, 'Mrs. Wynta has agreed to let the student council host an inter-school karaoke competition—that's _competition_, not _show_—to raise money to furnish our soon-to-be-constructed student lounge.'

Whatever conversations had still been going on abruptly stopped and everyone now keenly listened to what their student prime minister had to say.

'Yes, you heard me right, a student lounge!' JD said enthusiastically. 'This competition is only the beginning. Unfortunately, it costs a lot to furnish a lounge, so we need everybody's participation to help raise money!'

There was a polite scattering of applause, and JD happily continued.

'We have lots of time to do whatever needs to be done. Heck, we could even use some of _your_ ideas on how to raise money. This lounge is a place all students can just sit around and hang out in. You can even sneak some girls in there, if you're careful.' He suddenly paled and people realized that he must have caught sight of Mr. Lyori lingering about in the corner, for he hastily added, 'Ha, just kidding, professor . . . Er, does anyone have any questions?'

'When will the lounge be ready?' someone called out.

'Not until next April.'

Numerous "boos" followed this announcement.

Keeping his cool, JD added, 'But it can be ready sooner if we contribute enough finances towards it.'

'How much will it cost?'

'A _lot_! Anymore questions?'

'Can we have a fashion show?'

'Um, sure! Fashion shows, talent shows, burping contests, whatever you want!' JD responded. 'Just talk to one of us student council members and we'll see what we can do. And other than the FUN times that you guys will have competing against each other, there are also some other benefits for you.'

'What do you mean?' Ralph asked loudly.

'Well, today's competition, for example, people can bet on who they think will win. Then the winner will receive all the money that was betted on him.' He smiled. 'Also, those of you who betted correctly will have your tickets entered into a raffle. It's a dollar for every ticket, so your chances are obviously improved if you invest more money. That means you guys had better participate. The more money you put into this thing, the more chances you have of winning.'

Ralph groaned. He had had enough "betting" to last him _twelve_ lifetimes!

'But isn't that gambling?" somebody questioned.

'Mrs. Wynta caught that, too, and I am now going to tell you what I told her—it's not really gambling if it's for a school fundraiser.'

'How much can we bet up to?' one of the juniors inquired.

'Only five bucks 2,' JD replied. 'The majority of students at our school—well, actually, _all_ of us—are not of legal age to gamble, and five bucks is a small enough amount not to commit suicide over or something.' He loosened his collar nervously, apparently aware of Mr. Lyori's probing gaze. 'You can place your bets at the end of the lunch period. Members of the student council will record your name and amount, just in case some of you want to cheat.' He winked.

'What are the prizes?'

'You know, the usual: movie tickets, books, a TV, some other stuff. You'll have to see for yourself . . . So, if there aren't any other questions, let the competition begin! Now to introduce your host . . . me!' He suddenly started giggling. 'Nah, just kidding. Your _real_ host is Mrs. Wynta. Let's all give her a rowdy round of applause.'

It sound like a bomb had exploded inside the cafeteria. Everyone had practically jumped out of his seat with an overly stimulated rapture.

'Thank you, thank you,' Mrs. Wynta said modestly. 'Now, I know that this is the boring part, but it will pass soon enough. I am now going to tell you the rules.'

An almost unified groan swept the room, and the teacher smiled amusedly.

'Well, firstly, anyone can enter this contest. Just choose a song from the list Greg, the deputy prime minister, is holding—' She indicated the spectacled redhead standing just to the right of the makeshift stage, '—and sing your heart out. Unfortunately, we have to use the list because some of our more . . . zealous gentlemen have a tendency to choose vulgar songs that are inappropriate for school.' She cleared her throat. 'Secondly, it is not tolerable to change the lyrics in place of one's own. I know that some of you enjoy being creative, but a ­_karaoke_ competition is not really the place to do so, especially since you are being "graded" upon by your fellow students. Thirdly, though this is unnecessary to say to such fine gentlemen, act appropriately. You may dance and such to entertain your friends, but over-exposed sensuality will be one of the first things that will disqualify you. So, does anyone have any questions?'

'Can you only enter once?' somebody asked.

Some people in the audience snickered. The question was so ludicrous! Ha, can you only enter once . . . However, the answer was even more so.

'No,' the professor replied. 'I want to encourage people to enter as many times as they'd like so as to raise money for your lounge. You students need a place to relax at lunchtimes and after school, and participating in school-related activities can enliven your school spirit. I see no problem with entering this contest numerous times. Any other questions?'

Silence.

'Good. Then let's have our first competitor.'

A tense silence continued, for no one dared to get up and sing in front of everybody. Sure, it would just be for fun, but pride held the students back . . . pride and the growing fear of making complete fools out of themselves.

'Anyone?' Mrs. Wynta asked almost desperately. 'It's just a silly competition. No one will think any less of you if you don't win.'

'I'll go!' someone suddenly said.

All eyes turned to the brave student, and Ralph was rather shocked to see that it was Jack.

"Actually, I shouldn't be so surprised. After all, Jack _was_ the head of the choir back in our old school, and he _does_ love being the centre of attention," he reasoned. "No, I shouldn't be surprised at all."

'Very good, Mr. Merridew!' Mrs. Wynta exclaimed, clapping her hands with joy. 'Now, tell Greg what song you want and he'll give the order to the audio-visual team to play it.'

Eager to see Jack perform, Ralph abandoned his lunch and inched his way closer to the platform. He heard Jack ask Greg something; he was likely requesting a song.

'That's a pretty old song. I don't think I have it,' Greg murmured, flipping through his list. 'Oh wait, yeah, we got it.' He waved to the person standing by the CD player (the makeshift DJ) to catch his attention. 'Play number 6 on disc 5,' he said, and the latter nodded in understanding.

Breathing deeply, Ralph watched as Jack took his place at the centre of the stage and brought the microphone closer to his lips. The first chord of the song struck and Jack's beautiful baritone voice soon followed. Ralph felt as if the rest of the world had fallen away. Now, there was only he and Jack. Their eyes locked, and he knew . . . he just knew that Jack was singing that song just for him. His eyes told him so.

'"Baby, you're all that I want

When you're lying here in my arms

I'm finding it hard to believe

We're in heaven

Love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven" . . .' 3

Jack strung out the last note amidst a burst of applause, as well as a few playful mocks as well.

'That's it, Merridew? You suck!'

'Get off the stage!'

'My dog can sing better than you can!'

Ralph turned around and he was not at all surprised to see that the jeers were coming from none other than Jack's best friends.

'BOO!' John was yelling through cupped hands.

Jack stuck his tongue out, wanting to keep himself in check while the teachers' gazes were still upon him.

'Thank you very much for that wonderful performance, Jack,' Mrs. Wynta said, stepping back onto the stage. 'That was very well done indeed.' She laid a delicate hand on Jack's shoulder and gently indicated that for him to leave the stage. 'Now . . . do any other brave gentlemen think they can compete with that?'

Suddenly, a whole hoard of students fought their way towards Greg (including Ralph's former pursuer—Eddy), all of them wanting to prove that he was better than Jack were. The latter's only talents were believed to be in bed, so _surely_ one of them could beat him. He was merely the school slut, after all.

"Ha, how wrong they are," Ralph thought. "If only they knew the person he was before that fucking island incident . . . Head boy, leader of the choir, straight-A student . . . Sigh. What the hell happened to that boy?"

"That boy became a man," his less-than-sane mind contested. "And that man is now within your grasp, if only you can find the courage to reach out to him and give him a chance."

The logical side of Ralph's brain remained silent, confirming the desires of his heart.

'Things weren't meant to be this way,' he muttered to himself.

'What was that, mate?' Ray asked, abruptly appearing.

Ralph's eyes bugged out slightly in shock.

'Don't sneak up on me like that,' he said irritably. 'It's . . . sneaky, and I don't like sneaky.'

'Sorry, Ralph . . . Anyway, that was some performance, eh? I, like, didn't know that Jack could sing.'

'There's a lot about him you don't know,' Ralph replied automatically.

'Is that so? Well, that's some voice. Really beautiful, it is, eh? With the way it sounds when he talks and stuff, like, you wouldn't think it could sound so lovely when he sings. Just like that Aiken fellow on _American Idol_.' 4

'I guess.' Ralph shrugged, not knowing who the hell Aidan . . . Ailen . . . Ache . . . what's-his-name was. 'It's not too surprising to me though, Ray. I've heard him before. He used to be the leader of the choir at our old school.'

'Is that so?'

Ralph nodded.

'All right, people, we are ready for our next contestant,' Mrs. Wynta said, unwittingly interrupting their conversation. 'Give it up for Allan Erllens!'

'Er . . . Hi, everybody,' Allan said nervously, loosening his collar. 'Um, I'm going to sing to you the song—'

Already bored out of his mind, Ralph tuned Allan out and turned his gaze towards the object of his affection. Argh! Now that Jack had already performed, Ralph couldn't wait for this stupid competition to end.

-

'He's staring at you,' John said the moment Jack returned to their table.

'I know,' Jack replied calmly.

'So what are you going to do about it?' Lee asked. 'Not losing your nerve, are you, bud?'

'Of course not,' the teen responded none-too-confidently. He just hoped his friends wouldn't notice. However, the looks on John-the-brains and Fred-the-human-sensor told him otherwise. Sighing inwardly, he excused himself and made for the exit.

'Wait, Jack!' Fred called after him, but he simply ignored his friend and continued on. Unfortunately, he was stopped not long afterwards by a certain Aussie who only had a handful of macaroni for brains. In Jack's opinion, his striking good looks more than made up for it, however.

The mentioned teen was, of course, Ray.

'How _is _it that you always manage to appear at the worst of times?' Jack questioned angrily.

'It's a talent,' Ray said, shrugging.

'Well, your "talent" is not wanted right now, Ray. Get out of my way.' Jack tried to step around the other teen, but—as usual—Ray simply blocked his way again.

'I need to tell you something, Jack. It's something that will help you win.'

'I don't want to win the bet anymore,' Jack said softly, avoiding his companion's gaze.

'Who said anything about the bet?'

The former narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

'What else would you be talking about?'

'The "grand prize"!' Ray exclaimed.

'Which is . . .?'

'Ralph, of course.'

'Ralph!'

'Yes, savvy? The bet has been over long ago, but its prize is still not owned by anyone. "So," I decided, "why not help Jack obtain the prize, the prize which he should have rightfully had from the start?"'

'From the start? What the hell are you talking in riddles for, Ray? You don't even know who the fuck I am or what I've been through.'

'On the contrary, friend. I know everything.'

'Jack! Hey, Jack!' John inquired, coming up behind his friend.

'Yeah?' Jack asked, whipping around in time to see Fred closely pursuing the Brain.

'Why did you leave like that? Where were you going?'

'Well, I _was _just going to leave the caf., but I was ambushed on the way,' Jack replied; he turned around to face Ray once more. 'Now, Ray, what the hell did you mean by "you know everything"?'

'Er . . . Jack, who are you talking to?' John asked, placing a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

'Huh? I'm talking to Ray,' Jack explained.

'Where?'

'Right there!'

'Uh, there's no one there, bud,' Fred said. 'Are you all right?'

'I'm fine. It's _you_ guys who aren't!' Jack exclaimed. 'Look! Use your friggin' eyes! Ray is standing right there!' He pointed at the Aussie, who was now over-enthusiastically jumping up and down.

'All I see is us, Jack,' John said. 'You're pointing at our reflection in that small window on the door.'

'Wha?' Jack looked again, yet he still saw Ray, who was now testing the laws of gravity by doing a one-handed handstand.

What the hell was going on? Were John and Fred just playing a stupid prank on him or were they for real? Though the real question was: Is Ray for real?

"Fuck, maybe I'm getting schizophrenia or something," Jack thought, brutally shaking his head. "But that can't be right, Ralph can see Ray, too. What the fuck is going on?'

As if in answer to Jack's question, Ray stopped jumping long enough to say, 'You see, I know _everything _about you, yet . . . you know as little about me as the dirt under my fingernails, and that measurement is very miniscule. Believe me, I know, I just got a manicure.'

Jack glared apprehensively at the phantom-like creature in front of him.

'Who the hell are you?' Jack demanded.

Ray smiled in a rather creepy way.

'I'm whoever you want me to be, Merridew.'


	16. Unwelcome Surprises

**(16) Unwelcome Surprises**

Ray stared alluringly at Jack and tossed his hair back with a coy smile.

'I ask you again, WHO ARE YOU!' Jack almost screamed. 'I'm not in the mood for your shit right now, Ray.'

'Okay, Jack, just calm down,' John was saying, trying to tug the teen away from the door. 'Come on back to our table with some _real_ people, and you'll be all right.'

'I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers from Ray!' Jack snapped. 'You two go on without me. I'll come along in a minute.'

Heeding his angry words, John and Fred left their friend alone with "Ray", whoever he was.

'That was a wise move, Jack. Now everyone will think you're crazy . . . except Ralph, that is,' Ray said. 'He really cares about you, Jack.'

Jack sighed and sat himself down on the nearest chair.

'I know.'

'And you really care about him?' Ray asked, but it wasn't exactly a question.

'Yes, I do.'

'Then I wish you both luck.'

'What?'

'You're about to fall under some hard times with Ralph, Jack,' Ray warned. '_You _may have decided that the bet was over, but there are others in the school who will refuse to let it go _until_ it's original deadline—like your friend, Lee, for example.'

'What's Lee got to do with anything?'

'He has _everything _to do with it.'

'What do you mean?'

'You'll see . . . You're going to have to make some tough decisions, mate. Just try to remember what's most important to you.'

It was then that Jack realized that Ray had called him "mate" for the first time during their whole conversation.

'You're not really an Aussie, are you?'

Ray grinned.

'No. Did you only realize that now? I've been slipping back into my British tongue—i.e.: without the word "mate"—since a few chapters ago.'

'A few chapters? What?'

'Never mind. I have to go now, Jack. My best wishes for your well-being.' He made to leave through the cafeteria door, but Jack's voice stopped him.

'What's your name?'

'What?' Ray inquired.

'What's your name?' Jack repeated impatiently.

'Why, it's Ray!'

'Bullshit.'

Ray sighed and stared at Jack under hooded eyes.

'Are you sure you want to know?'

'Yes.'

'You _really_ do?'

'Yes.'

Then, right before his eyes, Ray began to change his form. One moment, he was the dashing "Aussie" who (sometimes) spoke like a Valley girl. The next moment, he was . . .

'Simon?'

Simon looked up at Jack and smiled. His features were now rather average-looking, with light brown hair and a slightly freckled nose. However, his eyes proclaimed otherwise. They were as blue as the ocean and twice as deep. The two orbs stood out like rare gems in a desert of sand.

'Simon!' Jack exclaimed again in disbelief. 'What the hell are you doing here! You died six years ago!' Not surprisingly, Jack was unable to add, "We killed you!"

'Yes,' Simon responded rather impatiently, 'but now I have returned.'

'Why?'

'I would have thought that was obvious.'

'Yeah, to get Ralph and I together . . . but why?'

Simon reclined against a nearby wall.

'You have always intrigued me, Merridew. And I don't even know why! Before that whole "island" fiasco, you and Ralph were on rather friendly terms.'

'Friendly terms? I didn't even know the guy!'

'Still, you two could have been really close friends. You were both into the same music, liked to do the same things . . .'

'How do you know that?'

'Hello! Yearbook!' Simon said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'You know, the sections entitled "Favourite Music" and "What I Like To Do".' He sighed. 'Anyway, I decided that I should do something about it. Now, don't blame the whole Ralph-is-at-my-school-now thing on me. I had absolutely nothing to do with that. It was purely fate . . . or something. Anyway, I wanted to bring you two together.'

'And _this_ is how you do it? I'm on a trial basis for fuck's sake.'

'Hey, I'm not all-powerful, Jack! Give me some credit for what I _did_ do right,' Simon said sullenly. 'I'm only sixteen-years-old.'

'Now you are. You were only ten when you died.'

'Okay, now you're just getting off topic. We were talking about you and Ralph, remember?'

'Yeah . . . Did you even tell Ralph that it was you?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'I didn't want to scare him away.'

'And you don't think you did that to me? You almost gave me a heart attack!'

'Yeah, but I wouldn't have minded as much,' Simon joked. 'Really though, Jack, if I had told Ralph, he would have wanted to spend more time with me. The point was to get _you_ together with him, not for him to spend time with his dead friend.' He casually consulted his wristwatch. 'Okay, I really _do_ have to go now, Jack. I'm scheduled for tea with the Princess Di. Remember what I told you. Don't ignore it just because it was me who said it, okay? My intentions are for both of you to be happy.'

'All right . . . But just tell me one thing, Simon.'

'Eh?'

'Will everything turn out all right in the end?'

'Like I said before, I'm not all-powerful. I wouldn't know these things.' He opened the door and was halfway out the door when he called back, 'It's up to _you_ how things turn out, Merridew.' Then he was gone.

"Man, he's changed a lot!" Jack thought. "The Simon I used to know would have at least prayed for me or something. Geez."

-

'Lee, I think that we should call this whole bet off,' John said the moment he and Fred returned to their table.

'What? Why?'

'It's getting to Jack's head,' Fred explained. 'You should see the guy, Lee. He's losing his mind! He was talking to himself when we left him. _Arguing _with himself even! We have to call the whole thing off, man. Jack is out friend!'

'Yeah, and he'll be okay for a few more days,' Lee said calmly. 'Two days can't kill him. This bet is important to me, guys. I have to do this; I refuse to call if off.'

'Then you're an asshole,' John snapped. 'This is seriously rattling up Jack's brain. I don't know—maybe he cracked when he saw Ralph that first time.'

'John, take a few seconds to breathe!' Lee said. 'Believe me, Jack will be okay for two more days. If he isn't, then I will personally see to it that things are put right.'

'Promise?'

'Lee's honour,' Lee said, putting his hand over his heart.

"But you don't have any," was John's immediate thought, but he decided it would be rude to say so.

'Er, I guess it'll be okay then. Fred?' he finally said.

'Yeah, I'm good,' Fred said, shrugging.

'Good,' Lee responded. 'Good.'

-

When Ralph returned home from school that day, a not too pleasant surprise awaited him there. A week ago, it would have been a great escape from his all-boy school life to see such an attractive girl sitting on his living room couch—not anymore, however.

'Who are you?' he asked the brunette curiously.

'My name is Lynn,' she replied. 'And you must be Ralph.'

'Y-yeah, I am,' Ralph stuttered.

'Oh, it's nice to see that you're home, dear,' his mother suddenly said, emerging from the kitchen. 'I was just fixing Lynn here a little snack.'

'That's nice.' He nervously cleared his throat. 'If you have no need for me, I think I'll just go up to my room and study, mum.'

'Ralph,' Mrs. Macpherson said with a clear warning in her tone.

Taking her hint, he flopped onto the sofa beside the other teen and started to make small talk with her.

'So, how old are you?'

'Seventeen.'

'Really? So am I.'

There was a rather awkward silence, in which Mrs. Macpherson placed a tray of cookies onto the coffee table in front of them.

'Lynn is the daughter of my friend, Kathy, Ralph. Do you remember her?'

'I can recall you mentioning her a few times,' Ralph said smoothly.

'Well, since you haven't really had the chance to meet a lot of girls around here, I thought I'd just bring her over to our house. Maybe you two can spend a little quality time together.'

Lynn flushed scarlet and shyly batted her thick eyelashes.

'Y-you mean l-like a d-d-date!' Ralph exclaimed.

'Well . . . yes,' his mother replied. 'Just go out for a bit, dear. You spend too much time on your schoolwork and I think it would be nice if you go out for a bit. You know, to get your mind off things for a while.'

'But I just went out last Friday with some friends!' Ralph reminded her.

'I just wanted to do you a little favour, dear,' she said innocently. 'After all, we don't really know how long we'll be staying here, so you may as well take advantage of the situation while you can.'

'Really, mum, I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need a blind date.'

'It's not really a blind date anymore.' She calmly checked her watch. 'You two have known each other for over five minutes now!'

Ralph rolled his eyes.

'Mother! This is humiliating.'

'Don't worry. I have to go through the same thing that you do,' Lynn said. '_My_ mother is constantly setting me up with guys. Apparently, she doesn't approve of the ones I bring home.'

'This situation is slightly different,' Ralph responded.

'I concur,' Mrs. Macpherson said. 'I greatly approve of the girls Ralph brings home . . . My irritation arises from the fact that he doesn't _bring_ any home anymore!'

'We've hardly even been here for a week, mum,' the teen said exasperatedly. 'I can find my own dates.'

'I know, because you're such a gentleman,' she said affectionately. 'But do me this little favour and go out with Lynn for a few hours. Go catch a movie or something! Even if you don't end up "going steady", you may at least be friends.' (It was obvious, however, that she would hardly approve of the latter suggestion.)

'Yeah . . .' Ralph said slowly; he turned to Lynn. 'Just give me a sec, okay? I just want to change and stuff.'

'No problem,' Lynn replied. 'I'll go freshen up as well.'

'I'm so glad that you two are already getting along so well!' Mrs. Macpherson said, catching them both in one-armed hugs.

'Mum, you're embarrassing yourself,' Ralph said, his words slightly muffled against her shoulder.

'Ah, well, you know how emotional I get sometimes,' she said. 'Go run on upstairs now.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

-

'Your mum is quite a character,' Lynn said a while later as she and Ralph made their way to a nearby café.

'I guess that's one way of putting it,' the latter shrugged. 'She gets a kick out of anything even remotely romantic.'

'Oh, and are _we_ romantic, Ralph?' she asked. Lynn looped her arm through Ralph's and rested her head comfortably on his shoulder.

Ralph tensed, not really knowing what to reply without insulting his companion.

'W-we could be,' he stuttered, unnerved that she could be so forward. After all, they'd only just met! 'You know, after I get to know you and you get to know me . . . Yeah, I guess we could be.'

Lynn sighed and gently steered him into the café, which was called "Café Olé"—a Spanish play on words of the French phrase "café au lait". The place was decorated in the typical café fashion with neutral shades and a classical setting. It was all in all a rather serene atmosphere, save for a couple of guys who were arguing very loudly in one corner.

"Wait a minute, that's Jack!" Ralph realized, his gaze sweeping over the familiar form.

The teenager in question was impeccably dressed in a black turtleneck and dark blue jeans. The obscure shades of his clothes complimented his fair features, which were currently contorted with anger.

"I wonder what they're arguing about."

His answer came almost immediately.

'I can sing circles around you,' Jack said.

'Well, we'll just see about that at the finals,' retorted a teen who Ralph didn't know. 'We'll find out tomorrow who the best singer is . . . Just don't cry your little eyes out when you see _me_ step up to the podium.'

'Like _that _will even happen!' Jack scoffed. 'Your voice is shit, Smith. How you ever became the leader of the choir is beyond me.'

'Everything is beyond you. I admit, you have _some_ talent when it comes to the art of vocals. It's just too bad your mind can't catch up.'

'Says the guy with a C+ average,' Jack muttered.

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah!'

'Then if you're so confident in your abilities, why don't we put a little wager on this.'

'I'm listening, Smith,' Jack said.

'Say, one hundred bucks.'

'Ooh, that's a rather hefty amount. Are you sure your wallet won't fly away once I relieve you of it?'

'Ha ha,' the other teen laughed sarcastically. 'Speak for yourself. At least _I_ don't live in the city ghettos.'

'The city g-ghettos!' Jack stuttered through a storm of giggles. 'That is s-so funny!' Suddenly, he swung his fist straight into Smith's face, knocking the latter clean off his feet. 'Not.'

Releasing a breath that he had heedlessly been holding, Ralph murmured a quick apology to Lynn and made his way over.

'Bastard,' Smith sputtered, coughing out blood. 'I'm gonna carve my initials into your fucking head . . . with a spoon!'

'You hit him?' Ralph inquired softly.

Jack grimaced.

'Apparently not hard enough—his mouth still works.' With the same odd grin still on his face, Jack half-heartedly kicked at Smith's foot. 'Get the fuck out of here, Smith. This battle will end tomorrow.'

Glaring angrily at Jack, the other teen scrambled to his feet and fled.

'What are you doing here?' Jack asked.

'I . . . I'm on a date,' Ralph said, quite uncomfortable.

'I see . . . Well, can I meet your . . . date?'

'I guess,' he shrugged. 'Hey, Lynn, come here for a minute,' he called, waving her over.'

Lynn hurried over and flashed Jack a dazzling smile.

'Hi!' she greeted him kindly.

'Lynn, this is Jack. Jack, Lynn,' Ralph said shortly.

'It's wonderful to meet you,' she said, casually tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder.

'Likewise,' Jack responded. 'Ralph is a really lucky guy to be dating such a beauty.'

Lynn blushed and averted her icy blue eyes in embarrassment.

'Well, would you mind if I steal your date for a moment, Lynn?' Jack inquired. 'I just need to speak with him.'

'Sure.' Lynn leaned forwards to press a chaste kiss on Ralph's cheek. 'I'll go get us a table, hun.'

'What's up?' Ralph asked the moment his date was gone.

'I—'

And that was as far as Jack got before a stern-looking man rudely stepped in front of him.

'Excuse me, sir,' the latter said, his hands resting firmly on his hips. 'I am sorry, but we do not tolerate fighting in this café. I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave.'

'Okay, yeah, just let me speak with my friend for a minute, okay?'

'No can do, sir. It's restaurant policy. Those who break the rules must leave immediately!'

Sighing irritably, Jack shrugged his jacket on and left the café, waving goodbye to Ralph over his shoulder.

'See you at school,' he muttered.

'Bye!' Ralph called in reply. Somewhat disappointed, he returned to Lynn with a hasty apology spilling out of his lips.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' Lynn said. 'I'm not going to be totally heartbroken just because you left me for two minutes!'

Ralph let out a choked laugh.

'Are you all right?' she asked, placing her hand gently atop his.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' he murmured. 'It's just been a while since I've been on a date. You know, since we move around so much.'

'I know what you mean,' Lynn responded, though it was obvious she didn't. She had probably never left that city since the day she was born! 'You don't believe me, do you?' she inquired with a smile.

'Not really,' Ralph admitted sheepishly.

'Well, I've moved around quite a bit, too,' she said. 'My parents got divorced a few years back and I had to go live with my aunt for a few months while things settled down. Then I moved in with my mum, then my dad, and now I live with my mum again. I'm supposed to go back to my dad in a few months. That's how my life is—I live with one parent for half a year, then the other. It's hell on my school career . . . er, okay, so these aren't exactly the same circumstances you've had to go through, but they're similar.'

'I guess,' Ralph agreed, shrugging. 'However, I have to move every few months, and sometimes even every few weeks.'

'At least your parents are still together.'

'Yeah. It must be hard on you.'

'It used to be, but I've almost gotten used to it by now.'

Ralph smiled comfortably, relieved to discover how friendly and easy-going Lynn was.

'Hey, we should probably get something to eat,' he suggested. 'Let's go.'

-

When Ralph returned home a few hours later, it was with genuine happiness lighting up his face. Despite their different family lives, he and Lynn realized that they had a lot in common. They listened to the same music, were into the same hobbies, liked the same sports . . . They could have been a great couple.

"I have my eyes set on only one person," Ralph thought as he slipped off his shoes. "Someone who likes the same music I do, likes to do the same things . . . and Lynn isn't the one."

'Hello, dear, how was your date?' his mother asked as she emerged stealthily from the living room.

'Egads, mum, can you at least wait until I get my coat off!' Ralph exclaimed.

Mrs. Macpherson smiled.

'So you had a good time then?' she inquired, completely ignoring his comment.

'I had a great time!' he replied. 'Lynn is a cool chick.'

'But?' The smile was rapidly replaced with a frown.

'What do you mean "but"? I didn't say anything else.'

'Don't give me that foolishness, Ralph Macpherson. I've known you long enough to know if you're telling the entire truth.'

Ralph sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with her. It was like discussing politics with a brick wall.

'But I don't think things will work out between us. The best we can be are good friends.'

'Aw, sweetie, so Lynn wasn't the one. There will be other girls.'

A hard lump formed at the back of Ralph's throat when he heard the word "girls". He didn't want girls anymore, and he didn't want guys either. He just wanted Jack.

'I'm _sure _there will, Ralph. You're loyal and intelligent and so gosh darn cute—the perfect son!' Mrs. Macpherson enveloped him in an affectionate hug; yet, he couldn't help but notice a certain . . . tenseness to her embrace.

Ralph struggled out of his mother's arms and, after muttering hasty, 'Got homework to do', he practically leapt up the staircase to his bedroom. Then, when he was finally in the privacy of his own domain, he let the tears fall.

'Oh, mum,' he whispered brokenly, 'if you only knew, I doubt you would be so approving of me.'


	17. Karaoke Klash

**(17) Karaoke Klash**

'How was your date?' was Jack's (hardly) welcome greeting to Ralph at lunch the next day. He had been feeling extremely out of it earlier that morning (unsurprisingly) and had decided to skip their homeroom class.

'Fine,' Ralph replied, setting his tray down. Having noticed the cold tone lacing Jack's voice, he prompted, 'What's up with you?'

'Nothing.' The latter turned his attention to the blackboard in feigned interest. 'Okay, yes, something,' he admitted not two seconds later.

'It's Lynn, right?' Ralph inquired, though he already knew what the answer would be.

'Yes . . . no . . . I don't know!' The other teen practically tore out his hair. He was more than a little stressed that morning, because he had spent a sleepless night thinking over what he had seen. Ralph. Ralph with a girl. Ralph with Lynn, who seemed like such great gal.

'Jack?'

Jack sighed.

'Lynn seems like a really nice girl, Ralph,' he said lamely.

'She is. I'm glad you like her.'

'Have you known her for long?'

'Only since last afternoon,' Ralph responded, shrugging. 'My mother introduced her to me when I arrived home.'

The teen sighed again.

'Well, I might as well get right to the point—I don't want you to date her, Ralph.'

'Why not? What's wrong with her?'

'It's not _her_. It's just . . . okay, this is going to sound really stupid and selfish, but . . . I don't want you to date _anyone_, Ralph!'

There was an awkward silence, then, 'Why?' asked Ralph.

'Because _I'm _yours.'

'I'm not a possession to be owned, Jack Merridew!' Ralph retorted briskly. 'I am your equal. I'm not your inferior, and I am definitely not _yours_, so—' He stopped suddenly, having just realized what Jack said. 'You're . . . mine?'

Jack smiled.

'You heard me, Ralph. I did not say, "You're mine". I realized the same thing you did—we _are_ equals.' He sighed and casually pushed his hair out of his eyes. 'I must admit, I've never been in that kind of relationship before.' He leaned closer until his lips were but a whisper away from his companion's. 'But for you, I think I'll take that chance.' They shared a chaste kiss before Jack regretfully pulled away to gauge Ralph's reaction.

The latter had a faded look in his eyes, as if storm clouds had decided to make his dark orbs their new home. His plush lips were still parted slightly from their kiss, yet there was something about him that just didn't seem right.

'You kissed her!' Jack accused, glaring at the other teen balefully.

'Why would you say that?'

'You seem . . . different, somehow.'

'Nothing happened, Jack.'

'Bullshit.'

'Bull true!' 1 Crossing his arms over his chest reproachfully, Jack turned his back on Ralph and determinedly stared blankly ahead of him. 'What exactly happened last night?' he inquired of the wall.

'Well, I have to admit, I had a really great time last night,' Ralph replied.

'You're breaking my heart, Ralph. That's not what I wanted to hear.'

'Just let me finish . . . We went to see a movie, went for a little stroll in the park.' He let out a soft chuckled. 'We sprayed water at each other at the fountain . . .'

'And . . .?'

'I walked her home, and . . .'

'_And_ . . .?'

'And then I told her that things were over between us.'

'What? Why?' Jack demanded, whirling around to face the other teen. 'You two were really hitting it off. What happened?'

'I thought of you,' Ralph said without a hint of embarrassment in his eyes.

If his life was a movie, Jack knew that that would have been the perfect time to kiss the pants off Ralph (?). However, one look at those lovely lips and the teen felt a slight wave of nausea wash over him. Sure, Lynn was a great girl and all, but to kiss those lips after she did just seemed . . . wrong.

As if he knew what Jack was thinking, Ralph leaned forwards and whispered into his ear, 'I never kissed her, Jack. Kissing is still just for us.' 2

Jack felt an anxious shiver travel up his spine, and he would have kissed Ralph again if it hadn't been for his friends' untimely arrival.

'Hey, guys,' Fred said, seating himself between them. 'I hope we're not interrupting anything.' He looked back and forth at his two friends with a teasing grin on his face.

'Oh no, Fred, not at all,' Jack said, clapping the new arrival "heartily" on the back. Really, it was just one notch less of full-out abuse.

'That's good . . . to know . . .' Fred replied. He winced when he tested the forming bruises on his back.

'So, are you ready for your grand finale, kid?' Terry questioned Jack.

'As ready as I'll ever be,' the latter responded. 'I'm in a much better mood than I was this morning.'

'We can see that,' John said with a fey wink in Ralph's direction.

'Little fuckers,' Jack muttered under his breath, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.

'And hello, hello, everybody!' announced a familiar voice. 'JD, your student council prime minister, here! Gosh, I love that title!' he added under his breath. 'Are you guys ready for the results of yesterday's competition?'

Jack, who hardly expected anyone to take heed of him (let alone reply), was surprised to hear the unified response of, 'YES!'

'I guess everyone is just eager to see how well the school slut will do,' Lee said.

'He isn't a slut anymore, Lee,' John said in defense.

'Oh really? We'll just see about that.'

Knowing that Lee never gave into anything without a fight, Jack knew that he had a reason to worry.

"But what can Lee possibly do?" he inquired reasonably. "The bet is almost over. There's nothing he can do anymore!"

The thought was extremely calming to his nerves.

-

Ralph was one of the people who had enthusiastically yelled, 'YES' when JD had inquired of their interest in the former competition. Now he just waited for the elder teen to continue; he had high confidence that Jack would make the top seven (out of twenty-eight). He was just that good!

'Well, after much debate and consideration,' JD said, 'the student council members and I, as well as Mrs. Wynta, decided upon our top seven finalists. As your name is called, please line up along the left side of the stage . . .' He indicated said area with a wave of his hand. '. . . Carl Rene!'

There was a polite scattering of applause.

'MJ Phoenix!'

This time, the applause was slightly louder, but still not very enthusiastic.

'Jackson Tairn . . . Gerry Walters . . . Alexander Smith . . . Christopher Andrews . . .'

"Come on, come on," Ralph prompted mentally, rather anxious now. What if Jack didn't make it?

'And Edward Johnson.'

Personally, Ralph did not really like Eddy's performance; he had found it too vulgar and sexual. His heart fell upon hearing the redhead's name being called. What happened? Jack was supposed to make it! Not stupid Eddy!

Erm . . . And apparently, he was not the only one who thought so.

'What about Jack?' Terry cried out.

'Yeah, Jack deserves to be up there, too,' Fred agreed.

'I'm sorry, boys, but we have already made our decision,' JD replied.

'You biased bastard!' Greg shouted. 'We wanted Jack in the top seven but _you_ overruled us because of your little breakup a few weeks ago.'

JD's face turned beet red.

'Shut your mouth, Greg, unless you want to be demoted!'

'What would it matter? This is my last year here anyway, so being "deputy prime minister" is the highest I can go!'

'Boys? Boys!' Mrs. Wynta said loudly, trying to calm the two teens down. 'Listen, this problem can easily be solved. We will simply place a eighth person on the panel.'

'I'm fine with that,' Greg said immediately.

'Fine. Whatever,' JD muttered. 'You aren't giving me much of a choice, anyway.

'Good,' the professor said, rather stern now. 'Now, JD, I believe I shall take over from here.' She took the microphone from him and turned to face the eager crowd. 'Well, you heard it, folks, Jack Merridew is now added to the top . . . er, eight.'

It was obvious to Ralph that the audience was very, _very_ pleased with this—Jack received the loudest cheer yet! He watched with eyes glowing with pride as Jack made his way to the podium and stood alongside the others.

'Way to go, Jack!' he murmured under his breath.

The teen waited with bated breath for his beloved's turn to come. He listened with vague interest as one by one, the other competitors took their place on the podium. The songs that burst out of their lungs were rather old, for the school hardly possessed newer karaoke CDs. However, they were exceptional, nonetheless. Such tunes as "The Hardest Thing I'll Ever Have to Do" by 98 Degrees and "I Want it That Way" by the Backstreet Boys.

"These are _so_ outdated," Ralph thought with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "Who the hell buys these things! Argh!"

Then, it was finally Jack's turn to take the stage, and warmth washed through Ralph's entire body as he listened to the soothing beats of "Leaving on a Jet Plane". The other guys sang their songs with their lungs (and their vocal chords, obviously). Jack, however, sang his with his heart.

'"All my bags are packed

I'm ready to go

I'm standing here

Outside your door

I hate to wake you up to say goodbye

But the dawn is breaking

It's early morn

The taxi is waiting

He's blowing his horn

Already I'm so lonesome I could cry

So kiss me and smile for me

Tell me that you'll wait for me

Hold me like you'll never let me go

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane

I don't know when I'll be back again

Oh, babe, I hate to go" . . .'

After a few more verses and choruses, Jack's song finally drew to a close. Ralph was more than a little depressed to realize that. However, as one would soon discover, he was in for a pleasant surprise.

'That was beautiful, Mr. Merridew,' Mrs. Wynta said through her stream of tears. 'I'll just give the judges a few moments to make the next cut, and then we'll continue.'

'Next cut?' Jack echoed. 'There's _more_?'

'Why, yes, Jack,' Mrs. Wynta replied. She brought the mike to her lips and spoke to everyone in general. 'I'm sorry, everybody. I have forgotten to tell you that there are still two more cuts before the winner is announced. At the moment, our _unbiased_—' She emphasized, glaring at JD, '—judges are deciding who should continue on to the top five. Then, those remaining people will perform again.'

'Then what?' someone called out.

'Then three more people will be cut,' she explained patiently. 'If there is still some time remaining in this lunch hour, they shall sing for us yet again.'

'And if not?'

'Then this competition will continue tomorrow.'

There was a sudden eruption of cheers from the crowd.

'Calm down, everybody,' Mrs. Wynta said calmly, holding up her hands to stem the unexpected fanfare. 'Before we can continue this competition, we must first find out whom the next few finalists will be . . . Greg.'

The deputy prime minister nodded his head in a business-like fashion and took his place on the stage.

'The five finalists are . . .'

Ralph held his breath.

'MJ Phoenix.'

Applause as a red-faced MJ stepped onto the stage.

'Edward Johnson.'

A very smug Eddy went to stand beside the other teen.

'Carl Rene . . . Alexander Smith . . . and Jack Merridew!'

Ralph clapped harder than anyone else . . . Er, well, perhaps excluding Terry. The big bloke looked like his hands were about to fall off.

'Here you have it, folks!' Greg announced. 'Your five finalists. Let's give them all a nice round of applause before we continue.'

More clapping, and then . . .

'This contest is almost over, and the pressure is rising. Who will reign supreme? Let's find out, shall we? First up, we have MJ Phoenix!'

Smiling, the latter stepped up to the microphone, and started to sing.

Time seemed to creep so slowly that an earthworm moved faster. Ralph was getting restless as MJ finished his turn and Jeffery went up. Then Carl. Then Eddy. Ralph groaned when he saw the familiar heap of red hair jump up onto the stage in a showoff-ish way.

'Let's go!' Eddy cried out, signaling for Greg to start the song.

Ralph rolled his eyes when he heard "Smooth" (by Santana) bursting from the speakers. How cliched was _that_ song? Shifting anxiously in his seat, the teen impatiently waited for Jack's turn to come up; eventually, it did.

'And now, folks, we have Jack Merridew performing "All or Nothing" by O-town,' Greg announced briefly before passing the mike onto said teenager.

Clearing his throat dramatically, Jack brought the instrument to lips and opened his heart to the audience.

"'I know when he's been on your mind

That distant look is in your eyes

I thought it's time you realize

It's over, over . . .

It's not the way I choose to live

And somethin' somewhere's got to give—"'

Ralph closed his eyes and allowed himself to be swept away by the deep tones of Jack's voice.

"Just one more day," he silently promised. "One more day and Jack will be mine."

-

The next morning passed rather uneventfully for Ralph. He and Jack shared little more than yearning glances and whispered words of promise. Neither one of them dared to breach the invisible wall between them, a wall of which only time could shatter. For Ralph, it was like being trapped in a nightmare to have Jack so close yet still too far out of Ralph's reach.

"Oh, _now_ I get the title," Ralph mused as he collected his books together for his next class.


	18. And the Winner is

**(18) And The Winner Is . . .**

_RING_!

It was lunchtime again.

Jack was more than a little excited to continue the singing competition. He was confident that he'd win. After all, he used to be the head of the choir at his old school. Since he came here, however, he has had too little time to try out for the choir, let alone attend practices. Anxiously wringing his hands, he made his way down to the cafeteria with his friends.

'You'll do great, Jack,' Fred said. 'Those other chaps don't stand a chance!'

'Yeah,' Terry agreed. 'No one can beat our boy Jack.'

'Yeah . . .' Lee echoed nonchalantly. 'Say, Jack, could I speak with you for a moment?'

Noting the serious tone in his friend's voice, Jack agreed and allowed the others to wander ahead before them.

'What's up?' he asked.

'Look, I know all about your feelings and stuff for Ralph, but I have a little favour to ask of you.'

'Go on,' Jack said, slightly wary now.

'Well, you see, one of my pals just broke up with his girlfriend of eight months. Now he wants to, you know, "search the market" as it is.'

'Meaning he wants to see what it's like to be with a guy,' Jack analyzed, already knowing what was coming. 'The answer is "no", Lee.'

'Come on, buddy!' Lee practically begged. 'He knows about your history and is willing to pay. He's pretty loaded, too.'

'How much are we talking about?' Jack mentally scolded himself for wavering even the slightest. 'I mean, no! This is probably just some scheme of yours to win the bet.'

'Haven't I told you? The bet means nothing to me now,' Lee said earnestly. 'If you want to know the truth, I suck at betting.'

"Nah, really?" Jack thought sarcastically.

'I'm out of cash, man,' Lee continued. 'If you do . . . _it _with him, I'll get about three hundred bucks, and _you'll_ receive five hundred. Jack, I _need_ that money to pay off some of my gambling debts! Or else . . .' He inhaled deeply. 'Or else JD's crew is going to come after me.'

Jack suddenly understood Lee's urgency. True, JD was not exactly liked amongst the students of the school, but he ahd some very . . . powerful friends, "powerful" in the violent sense, that is.

'Well, I can't help you, Lee,' the teen said.

'Will you at least think about it?' Lee pleaded. 'Here's his cell number,' and he produced a small card from his back pocket. 'He says he's free today. Come on, man, we're friends and I wouldn't be asking this favour from you unless I really needed it.'

Jack casually pocketed the card and entered the cafeteria, attempting to shrug off the gravity of his friend's situation. He found himself entering said location amidst a chanted, "Jack! Jack! Jack!" Laughing slightly, he made his way to the other contestants. Not surprisingly, the top three participants had been himself, Alexander Smith (head of the choir, if you recall), and Eddy.

Alex appeared particularly nervous. Unlike Jack, losing a hundred bucks would be of little significance to him. However, he _was_ rather worried about his title as the head of the school choir. What kind of image would emerge if Jack Merridew—the school slut—bested him? Eddy, however, was quite the opposite. He was a ray of sunny happiness among clouds of grey. He cared more about showing off than about what people actually thought of him.

'Good luck,' Jack said before taking a seat beside Alex.

'Not that I'll need it,' Eddy scoffed.

Just then and not a moment too soon, for Jack was fighting the urge to jump Eddy then and there (a feat that would surely disqualify him), JD bounced onto the podium with a broad grin on his face.

'Good afternoon, gentlemen. Welcome to the final segment of our karaoke competition! As you all know, our top finalists are Edward Johnson, Alexander Smith, and Jack Merridew!'

He waited for the ecstatic cheers to subside before he continued.

'This competition has raised almost two thousand dollars, most of which will be going to our new student lounge!'

More applause.

'Yes, well done! Financially, the bets are running as followed . . . Eddy: 457 . . . Alex: 532 . . . and Jack: a whopping 1005!'

Yet more applause.

'For the final judgment, the topmost members of the student council—myself included—as well as some members of the faculty will do the honours.'

Glancing around the room, Jack saw some of his teachers lingering along the walls, as well as others who knew him primarily by reputation. Jack felt his hopes crash down in an instant when he saw Lyori and Penting standing there as well. His chances of winning had completely dissipated.

'Hey, man, you okay?' Greg asked from nearby.

Jack was anything _but _okay; his pale face was evidence enough.

'And now, without further ado,' JD said, 'I shall let Mrs. Wynta introduce our first contestant.' He stepped down from the platform.

'Thank you, JD,' Mrs. Wynta said. 'For those of you who have forgotten, I will remind you what the prizes are. The money betted on the winner will _go_ to that winner, and there will be a raffle later this week for those of you who betted correctly. I guess that means Jack better not win or the chances for you guys who betted for him would be rather slim, though still more than those who betted for the others!' She playfully winked at Jack. 'Well, let's have our first competitor, shall we? Mr. Johnson, if you please.'

So self-assured, Eddy bounded onto the stage. After requesting—no, demanding—a song from Greg, he started to burst out the tunes enthusiastically.

"He's murdering that song," Jack thought, flinching as Eddy (supposedly) sang "The World's Greatest" by R. Kelly 1.

'If anybody asks you who I am

Just stand up tall

Look 'em in the face and say

I'm that star up in the sky  
I'm that mountain peak up high

Hey, I made it

I'm the world's greatest

And I'm that little bit of hope

When my back's against the ropes

I can feel it

I'm the world's greatest.'

"Typical," Jack inwardly scoffed. "Of course Eddy would choose that song. After all, it's entitled, 'The World's Greatest'." Rolling his eyes, Jack allowed his mind to wander . . . uh, rather, he allowed his _eyes_ to wander to . . . somebody.

Ralph seemed almost as bored (if not more so) as he was. His eyelids drooped and his mouth appeared to be slightly open.

"And what a beautiful mouth it is."

As if he had sensed the other teen's gaze, Ralph suddenly focused on Jack. He gave the latter a small smile. Then he glared pointedly at Eddy as if to say, "Is this the worst singing you've ever heard or what?"

Jack returned the smile. It took some effort on his behalf, however, as his nerves were getting worked up by the irritable presence of two certain teachers.

Ralph winked and mouthed, 'You'll do fine.'

Swallowing nervously, the other teen nodded and returned his attention to Eddy. An eternity seemed to pass before the song finally ended. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as Eddy was "escorted" (a.k.a. _shoved_) off the stage by JD. The former grumpily returned to his seat, disappointed to have his spotlight taken away from him so promptly.

'Very well done, Mr. Johnson,' Mrs. Wynta said to Eddy, taking her place beside the student council prime minister. She gave him a gracious smile, thankful that he had "escorted" the contestant off the platform so quickly. Although she had the reputation of being the nicest and most patient teacher in the school, she would prefer not to have this competition running any longer than necessary. After all, she _did_ have other responsibilities as a member of the faculty.

'Thanks, Miss!' Eddy called out in reply.

'Okay, everyone, let's give a nice round of applause to Edward Johnson for his . . . interesting performance.'

The audience clapped rather half-heartedly and many of them had noticeable smirks on their faces from Eddy's whore-like dance. The "talented" teen somehow managed to make that beautiful song into a strip tease.

'Now, allow me to introduce our second competitor—Jack Merridew!'

Jack's eyes widened. He was _sure_ that he would be the last one to perform. Why else would they have wanted him to sit on the other side of Alex? Didn't it make sense that they would perform in their seated order?

"Man, this school is _fucked_!" Jack cursed as he made his way onto the stage. It was unlike him to be so nervous, and now he was starting to doubt if the presense of his most loathed teachers had anything to do with it. Lyori and Penting had always breathed down his neck before, so why would this moment be so different?

'Hey, Jack, you all right?' Greg asked concernedly.

'Fine,' Jack replied. 'Damn fine.' He couldn't be any _less_ so.

"Because Ralph is watching me," he decided. "He's watching me with such hope in his eyes, hope and excitement that I'll win this competition for him . . . I want to. Fuck, do I want to. But this is only the beginning. What will he expect from me next? Worse yet, what if I can't meet his expectations? In the past, I have made him suffer so much . . . can I bear to put him down again? Damn the two-edged sword of love."

'Are you sure you're okay?' Greg inquired again. 'You still haven't told me what song you want, and I've asked you twice already.'

'You have?' Jack questioned, supposing he had been too deep in thought to notice. 'Sorry about that . . . Can you play "I want to spend my lifetime loving you" by Marc Anthony and Tina Arena?'

'Sure.' The other teen looked up the song on his list and popped the appropriate CD into the player.

'Thanks.' Jack shakily stepped up to the microphone and focused on the screen before him. Almost immediately, the words began to appear. He opened up his soul and sang . . .

'Moon so bright

Night so fine  
Keep your heart

Here with mine  
Life's a dream

We are dreaming.' 2

"We are dreaming?" Jack's mind scoffed. "Some dream. This is more like a fucking nightmare! How can we be together if I'll be so afraid of disappointing him? I don't want to hurt him again . . . but pain is as inevitable as the setting of the sun."

-

Ralph could tell that something was wrong with Jack. It was evident in the other's not-so-confident stature and the silght quiver in his voice. The latter finished his performance a few moments later with a slight bow to his audience. He spared Ralph naught but a quick glance before returning to his seat; even in that narrow space of time, Ralph saw the anxiety warring within him.

Jack's performance had—admittedly—not been his best and for the first time, Ralph feared that he would lose. Singing was something Jack excelled at, and losing this competition (seemingly useless though it was) would surely break him.

"Please let Jack be okay," Ralph silently begged, not knowing to whom his plea was directed.

'Thank you for your wonderful performance, Mr. Merridew!' Mrs. Wynta said amidst a rally of cheers; Ralph had been too deep in thought to notice. 'And now, for our final contestant . . . Let's give a round of applause for our very own Alexander Smith, leader of the school choir!'

Slightly embarrassed, Alex stepped onto the stage. He began his performance but a moment later, singing "That's What Friends Are For" by Dionne Warwick.

'And I

Never thought I'd feel this way

And as far as I'm concerned

I'm glad I got this chance to say

That I do believe I love you

And if

I should ever go away

Well then close your eyes and try

To feel the way we do today

And then if you can remember.' 3

Even Ralph found himself swaying slightly to the soft tones of his voice.

"He wasn't made the head of the choir for nothing," the teen found himself thinking, and immediately scolded himself for it. "You're rooting for Jack, remember? Not some arrogant rich boy who thinks himself to be _above _others! It's not Jack's fault he lives in the ghettos . . . Wait, that's not fair. Jack has tried his best to rise _above_ that, even though he didn't do it in the most noble of ways. His reputation as a slut is behind him now. He wants only me . . . right?"

Fuck, now Ralph was starting to have doubts.

'Keep smiling

Keep shining

Knowing you can always count on me

For sure

That's what friend's are for,' Alex was singing.

In a way, his words were like a cruel mockery to Ralph's thoughts.

"Love isn't something that we should lightly jump into. I have to talk to Jack . . . I'll do it after the competition is over," he decided. "Yes, the sooner we talk, the better."

-

This was it. The moment they had all been waiting for.

Jack nervously shifted in his seat to get a better view of the judges, who were quietly conversing at the other side of the cafeteria. More than a few times, one of the students would try to inch his way over to hear what they were saying. None of them were lucky, however, for he was always caught by either Lyori or Penting and given a detention slip.

Typical.

What seemed like hours passed and Jack's hands grew moist with sweat. What was taking them so long? Finally, the group separated and Mrs. Wynta stepped onto the stage. Her face was neutral, devoid of any emotion.

'After much deliberation,' she began, 'the other judges and myself have decided who the winner is for this karaoke competition.'

The audience held their breath; one would be able to slice through the room's tension with a knife.

'And the winner is . . .'

"Come on, say my name," Jack silently urged. "Say I won . . . If I win this contest, my reputation as the school slut—as a _nobody_!—will vanish forever."

Time seemed to move in slow motion. An eternity passed before Mrs. Wynta announced, 'Alexander Smith.'

Jack paled; he felt as if his entire world had crashed down around him. He blankly watched as Alexander stepped up to accept the title of "winner", _Jack's_ title. Alex didn't need the money as much as Jack did. He came from what others like to call "old money". He never had to work for his fortune; it was simply inherited. Jack, however, had to work for his own money. Now, because of his new relationship with Ralph and with his fear of hurting him, he did not know how that would come about.

He wasn't listening as Mrs. Wynta announced that all those students who had betted on Alex were to return to the cafeteria after school for the raffle. Instead, he was extracting a certain card from his pocket.

'Hey, Jack, are you all right?' Ralph asked, hurrying over to him.

Jack hastily concealed the card from view.

'Yeah,' he replied a little too quickly; he was unable to meet his companion's gaze. 'I just . . . I just need to be alone for a while.'

'Jack, we need to talk,' the other teen said, grasping his sleeve.

'Not now,' Jack insisted, shrugging his hand away and standing from his seat.

'Jack . . .'

Without meaning to, Jack looked up at Ralph. The heartbreak in the other's eyes was too much to bear, and Jack almost found himself break down with emotion.

'I . . . I have to go Ralph. I'm sorry.' He once again turned to leave.

'Do you think I'm attractive, Jack?'

The question was so sentimental that it caught Jack off guard.

'What?'

'Do you think I'm attractive?' Ralph repeated impatiently.

Jack remained silent. He was in such dire need of _physical_ release from his tension that he did the only thing he could do—he pushed Ralph away.

'No.'

The other's face blanched slightly.

'Am I in your heart?'

'No.'

'Do you like me at all?'

'No.'

'Would . . . would you cry if I walked away forever?' Ralph stuttered. 4

'No, Ralph. It appears some of us are not as "attached" as others,' Jack said coldly. As he watched Ralph stumble away, he knew that his hit could not have been more direct. He hoped that Ralph would ater forgive him for this, that he would simply chalk it up to a bad mood. Only time would tell . . .

Sighing softly, Jack left the cafeteria (all too painfully aware of the piercing gazes sent his way) and made his way to the payphones. He popped a quarter into the slot and dialled the number on the card.

'I'm so sorry, Ralph,' he whispered.

The phone rang three times before anyone picked up.

'It's me,' Jack said. 'What time are you free?'


	19. Deception, Disloyalty, Disgrace!

**(19) Deception, Disloyalty, Disgrace!**

'I don't get it, Ray, I just don't get it,' Ralph said, burying his face in his friend's shoulder. 'I was having doubts, but I was _sure_ that he wasn't. For fuck's sake, he said he was mine!'

Ray had enveloped him in a hug the moment Ralph had told him what happened. Now, however, he stepped away to allow his friend some space to breathe.

'Blimey, that's the dumps, mate,' he said. 'I think I know what might cheer you up, though. You remember how I wanted to show you something in the forest? Well, I found it! We can go as soon as you're willing.'

"Now," Ralph wanted to say. However, memories from what happened the _last_ time they went on the same excursion returned to his mind and he decided otherwise.

'After school,' he said. 'I don't want to be late for class again.'

'Well, we couldn't have gone now anyway,' Ray said. 'The bell is about to ring.'

As if on cue, the familiar _RIIING_ rang throughout the corridors.

'After school,' Ray repeated. 'It's a date then. I'll meet you here at 3 o'clock.'

In a blank daze, Ralph made his way to gym class, hoping against hope that a certain "someone" would be there . . . or wouldn't be there . . . Argh! He was so confused!

-

After making his phone call, Jack had returned to the cafeteria in anticipation of finding JD or Greg there. He just hoped that Lyori and/or Penting weren't still hanging around or he would probably get detention for a week for being in there after the bell rang . . . SUCCESS! Finally, something was going right. Jack breathed a sigh of relief upon finding Greg piling the CDs into a box.

'Hey,' he greeted the other teen.

'I know why you're here,' Greg responded, not bothering to acknowledge the other's presence visually. 'You want to know if the judgment was fair.'

'Was it?'

'What do _you_ think?'

Jack thought about this for a moment.

'Usually, I would suspect Lee had something to do with this, but he's been a bit too . . . distracted lately to tamper with this stupid competition.'

"Stupid? That's not what you thought it was ten minutes ago, before you found out you lost," his conscience reminded him.

'But there's no way he'd be able to bribe teachers,' Jack said, mentally crossing out the possibility. 'Then there's Lyori and Penting, who both hate my guts, so _they_ might have voted against me just for spite.'

'Why is this so important to you?' Greg questioned, tossing the last CD into the box.

'I don't want to have to finish my high school career as being known as nothing but the school slut,' Jack replied. 'I don't want this stupid reputation to follow me for the rest of my life. I'm better than that; I _know_ I am. Why can't other people see it?'

'What does it matter what other people think of you, Jack? The people you care about know the truth about you, so what more do you want?'

'I want to be able to look into a mirror and not be ashamed of who I am, but that's the problem.'

'What is?'

'Even _I_ can't face the truth about myself.'

'How so?' Greg inquired.

Jack shrugged.

'Today, I . . .' He sighed. '. . . I scheduled a . . . meeting with someone.'

From the expression on his face, Greg immediately knew what he meant.

'When?'

'After school?'

'Are you going?'

'Most likely . . . This competition tied up my nerves, man. How else am I supposed to loosen them?'

The elder teen looked angry now.

'So despite all your wishes of wanting to be _more_ than a slut, you can't even conquer your own physical desires? Fuck, Merridew, I thought you were stronger than that.'

'So did I.' Jack turned to leave. 'Anyway, I have to go. Thanks for your help, Greg. You told me what I needed to know. I'm not meant to be anything but what I am.'

'But that's not who you are!' Greg insisted. 'Think about that this afternoon during your "meeting".'

Jack grimaced.

'That was dry, man.'

Then he left.

-

Jack didn't go to gym class and neither of his friends knew where he went. He still had not reappeared by the end of the school day. That did not bode well.

"What do I care?" Ralph asked himself, angrily stuffing his books into his bag. "He has proved time and time again that his promises are empty, that all he is capable of is hurting me. But . . . but that look in his eyes is something no actor can accomplish. His sincerity, his thoughts . . . Argh! Fuck you, Merridew!"

Ralph slammed the locker door shut and went downstairs to the cafeteria to meet Ray.

'I was starting to worry about you,' Ray said. 'You okay, man?'

'Fine. Let's just get this over with,' Ralph replied haughtily, unaware that somewhere else, not too far away, Jack was saying the same thing . . .

'Whatever suits your fancy, mate.'

They made their way to the forest, and Ralph noticed something rather peculiar.

'Uh . . . Isn't the forest the other way?'

'Yeah, about that,' Ray said rather uncomfortably. 'I found out why we couldn't find "it". Last time, we were wandering around in the wrong forest. The one we are heading towards now is the one on the _other_ side of the school.'

Ralph rolled his eyes in exasperation.

'Whatever. Let's just go.'

-

Had he known what to expect, Ralph knew that he wouldn't have been in such a big hurry. After trudging (seemingly aimlessly) through the forest, haunting memories of his time on the island returned to his mind. He saw himself as he had in the dream, a scared young boy seeking shelter from those he considered friends. The stench of burning wood, the unforgettable sound of hurried footsteps behind him, his feeling of fear upon being found . . .

Without realizing it, Ralph had sped on ahead of Ray, leaving the Aussie behind. He did not see the forest as it was . . . Rather, he saw burning trees closing in around him. He saw painted faces watching him through the leaves. He stumbled through the dense foliage, eager to get away from his memories. But how could one escape one's own mind?

Suddenly, he tripped on a stray root. Hot tears leaked from his eyes, whether from gratitude or pain, he did not know. Caught between past and present, Ralph almost expected to see the confused face of a man standing before him, his rescuer. Fearfully, he glanced up and saw not one, but _two_ faces. Both persons were too engaged in their . . . actions to notice his abrupt presence.

Pain gripped his heart when he realized who it was. Jack, embraced in the arms of another. Jack, shirtless, filling the other teen's mouth with his eager tongue. Jack, conquered by his dark passion. Jack, _his _Jack.

"Oh, _why_ did you stop loving me, Jack Merridew?"

'Jack . . .' Ralph called out weakly. The other froze suddenly, and Ralph knew that his cry was heard.

Jack immediately jumped out of his partner's arms and stared at Ralph, who had now found the strength to lift himself from the ground and stand to face his lover.

'Ralph . . .' Jack said, just as weakly. His hair was tousled and his lips were swollen from the harsh kissing he had endured.

The third teen just looked between the two, as if torn whether he should stay or leave. Eventually, the decision was made for him by a very livid Ralph.

'Get the fuck out of here!' he screamed; he could almost hear a flock of birds take off in the distance.

'Ralph, relax,' Jack soothed.

'NO! Not until _he_ leaves!' Ralph said, pointing an accusing finger at their companion.

The teen stared at him with wide eyes before hastily scurrying away through the shrubbery.

'Ralph! Get a hold of yourself!' Jack said, tightly grasping Ralph's shoulders. (Although the latter fought back, he knew that he would never find it in his heart to hit Jack.)

'I could say the same for you, Merridew,' Ralph whispered coldly. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Then he threw said object at Jack's feet. 'There,' he said, his eyes filling with tears. 'I've paid my whore. You've never been anything _but _that, have you, Jack?'

Jack leaned down to pick up the wallet. Then he slowly approached Ralph and pressed it into his hand.

'I don't want your money,' he said. 'I've never wanted your money.'

'No, only Lee's, right?' His words were like ice, and he knew that they went straight to Jack's heart. 'I know that you desire me, Jack.' He brazenly stepped forwards, pressing his chest against Jack's and thereby pinning the other teen up against a tree. 'Does it excite you, feeling you and I together like this?' He moved closer, emitting a small cry of pain from his companion. 'Is this what you want, Jack?' Ralph roughly pressed his lips against Jack's a shoved his tongue inside the other's mouth. 'You like it rough, don't you, Merridew?' he asked, his bruised lips slowly inching away.

Jack moaned softly at the loss and tried to kiss Ralph again, but the latter stubbornly held his distance. Jack impatiently thrust his hips forwards, allowing Ralph to feel his desire.

'But I want more,' Ralph finished. He teasingly allowed his hand to brush against Jack's backside before pulling away completely.

'You once asked me if I find you attractive,' Jack said, his voice slightly husky with passion. 'Well, now I'll answer you truthfully—I don't.'

Ralph stiffened.

'This isn't helping your situation, Merridew,' he said.

'Just let me finish, baby . . . I don't think you're attractive, I think you're beautiful. You aren't _in_ my heart, you _are_ my heart. And I wouldn't cry if you walked away forever. No, I would die!'

'And do you like me?'

'No. I _love_ you. (1) I love you even more than my reputation, Ralph, even more than my own pleasures, and you know how much they mean to me . . . or how much they used to, anyway.' Jack sighed. 'When you saw me . . . just now . . . well, I'm not going to lie—I _did _enjoy it. But then I had one look at your face and I . . . I realized that I wanted more from life than a body to warm my bed. I wanted warmth in my mind, my heart, my soul; I wanted something that only _you_ could give me.'

'I've already given you everything, Jack—my pride, my heart . . . What more would you ask of me?'

'Your love.'

'You already have that,' Ralph whispered brokenly. 'You have everything.'

'I know. I just never realized it before . . .'

'Before what?'

'Before _this_,' Jack said. 'Even after what I did, you're here with me . . . and you're not walking away.'

'I can't walk away from you, Jack, and I would never want to,' Ralph said softly. 'Just the thought of walking away from what we have is . . . devastating, to say the least.'

Jack smiled and slowly closed the distance between them. The kiss they now shared couldn't have been more different from their previous one. This one was all about feeling, of the warm sensations they felt when their lips were locked.

Through the kiss, Ralph could feel the love pouring out of Jack's very soul, and he could hardly believe that he had ever doubted it.

"I don't want to lose this," he thought. "I never want to lose this."

Ever so slowly, they descended to the ground, still locked in each other's embrace. Jack gently rolled over until he was on top of Ralph. Then he straddled the other teen and allowed his palms to map out the hard planes of Ralph's body.

'Don't . . .' Ralph gasped, his eyes closed with ecstasy. '. . . stop . . .'

Jack froze and Ralph's eyes immediately flew open.

'Don't stop,' he said again.

Jack smiled and continued his exploration of his lover's body. The latter, in turn, rested his hands on Jack's waist, his grip alternately tightening and loosening when Jack found his pleasure spots. Jack's hands moved downwards ever so slowly, until they came to rest just above the waistline of Ralph's trousers. The other teen suddenly stiffened with discomfort.

'I've never done this before, Jack,' he said. 'Help me.'

As if he had just realized what they were about to do, Jack abruptly rolled off of Ralph and stared at him with wide eyes.

'What's wrong?' Ralph asked.

'Everything,' Jack said. 'I can't do this, Ralph. I don't want to treat you like everybody else. You're different and you deserve better than a quick fling in the forest. You should do it _right_ the first time. You know, with flowers, candlelight . . . a _bed_!'

'I don't care, Jack, I don't,' Ralph responded, crawling towards the other until their faces were mere inches apart. 'I want _you _more than I want a bed right now.' He was about to close the distance between them, but Jack pulled away once again.

'It's not just that,' Jack said, as if it took all his willpower to resist the other teen. 'The bet . . . There's still one more day left.'

'And you're willing to lose?' Ralph inquired, sitting down on his legs.

Jack nodded slowly.

'For you, anything.' He sighed. 'Just wait until tomorrow, Ralph, then our lives can be our own again. I don't want you to do something you'll regret, and if losing is the only way to go, then I'll go all the way.

Ralph bit his lip to stop it from quivering. Jack was a person _born_ to win. And now he was sacrificing everything—his pride, his reputation . . .—just to make Ralph happy.

'You don't know how much that means to me, Jack Merridew.' Filled with emotion, he flung his arms around Jack's neck and drew the other teen close. 'I love you _so_ much. Whatever you have to face tomorrow, we will face together.'

-

As he walked through the corridors the next day in his pink showercap, bathrobe, and fluffy purple slippers, Jack was vaguely wondering if he should have feigned illness to avoid school for the day.

"But that would have been the pussy's way out, and I'm no pussy."

For the entire time he had been in school—which, truthfully, had only been a few minutes—his face remained the same colour as his showercap. His friends, including Lee, laughed hysterically over the whole fiasco for a while, but their humour soon passed and they loyally escorted him to Lyori's classroom. (If you (the reader) recalls, Jack was to ask Mr. Lyori where his mother was because they had a date.)

Losing the bet had ruined his reputation, but Jack decided that that wasn't such a bad thing. At least, not when he had the one he wanted—the _only_ one he wanted. As he roamed the halls with his friends, Jack expected random mocks (from smirks to full out laughter) to follow him, but none occurred. Other students watched him with a mixture of admiration and fear as he walked by with his posse.

Why though?

Eventually, he could stand it no longer an asked the nearest kid.

'We all think you're really brave, Jack,' the young boy replied.

'Yeah, and your devotion to Ralph is very admirable,' an elder student added. 'I mean, you're fucking willing to risk _everything _for him.'

'And now you know how _we_ feel,' one of Jack's ex-flames said. 'It's not just about the sex, Jack.'

'I know,' Jack found himself saying. 'And with Ralph, it's never been about the sex. Just about the heart.'

Just then, the topic of their conversation emerged from around the corner.

'I heard what you said, Jack,' Ralph said, slipping his hand into the other teen's. 'Come on, babe. Let's get this over with.'

Jack nervously nodded and allowed Ralph to lead him to Lyori's classroom, which—unfortunately—was much too near for comfort. However, things suddenly didn't seem so bad, not when Ralph was there by his side, offering him sympathy and support. With Ralph there, Jack was no longer the least bit humiliated . . . Okay, maybe a little bit, but hey, you can't win them all! At least he got to wear the bathrobe.

'Wish me luck,' he said, crossing his fingers anxiously.

'I'll do better than that,' Ralph replied, and he kissed Jack full out on the lips, _there_, in front of everybody!

A few moments passed; Jack vaguely heard John asking them, 'Uh . . . Can you guys really go that long without oxygen? Hello? Guys?'

Eventually, the broke apart.

'Here it goes.' He sighed deeply and knocked on the door.

'Come in,' called Mr. Lyori's irritable voice.

Jack stepped into the classroom.

'Sorry about the intrusion, sir. I just wanted to ask you something.'

-

(1) Mini-Disclaimer: Okay, folks, here's the rest of the disclaimer from the email. You didn't really think I'd let Jack break Ralph's heart now, did you?


	20. Epilogue

_Author's Note: Firstly, I'd like to say congratulations to all of you who have read this far. I hope that you enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Its sequel, "Unreality", can be found in my author's profile if you're interested. Peace out!_

**(Epilogue)**

Jack Merridew, former school whore . . . that is, until the day he was reunited with his childhood nemesis, Ralph Macpherson. The latter brought a deep change into his life and he was more than willing to give up everything he had for the other teen, if only to receive but one more kiss from those lovely lips.

Jack hardly remember anything else from that day, just that he had become a different person at the drop of a button (?). However, he _did_ remember the consequences of his actions. Not only did he receive detention until the end of the school year, his mother had also grounded him for a month upon hearing what he did. She dwindled his original sentence of three months, only because she decided that his detention seemed like punishment enough . . . er, almost.

That night (of the very same day that he pulled his "stupid stunt"), Jack had a pleasant dream. He dreamt that he and Ralph were back on the island. Only, they were alone and the same age they were now, not like it was back then. In the background, he saw Ray (that is to say, Simon) watching them with a smile on his face . . .

_-_

_'You see, Jack,' he said. 'Things could have been really different for you and Ralph, if only you two found the courage to face your destiny.' He turned to walk away. The weird part was that he was standing at the very edge of a cliff!_

_'Where are you going?' Jack asked, worried for the other's safety._

_'Away,' Simon replied shortly. 'I am no longer needed. My work here is done.'_

_'Work?'__ Ralph asked._

_'Yes. You two have found something you'd never even thought to look for in each other, let alone find.'_

_'And what might that be?' Jack asked._

_'Love.'__ Having said that, Simon stepped off of the cliff and disappeared from view._

_However, Jack did not worry for him, for he knew that Simon had not fallen. He had simply returned to wherever it was he came from._

_'Jack,' Ralph said, bringing his mind back to their present situation._

_'Yes?'_

_'I lost you once before . . . I don't want to lose you again, Jack.'_

_Jack sighed._

_'Honestly, Ralph, I can't promise you that you won't lose me. Fate works in strange ways. In the short run, it might actually happen. But I _can _say this—in the long run, we'll be together forever. You are the other half of my heart and I could never be complete without you.'_

_And then . . ._

-

He woke up. Dazedly, Jack blinked the sleep from his eyes before he realized what had woken him. A fist was gently knocking on his window, careful not to awaken the other members of his household. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Jack made his way to the window and slid it open.

'Wha—?' He stopped in mid-sentence when he realized who it was. 'Ralph, what are you doing here?'

Rather, what happened? From his appearance, Jack could tell that there was something wrong. Ralph's eyes were quite red and swollen, as if he had recently cried. Further signs of his anxiety were his clenched fists and quivering lips.

'I have to move again,' he said. 'We've hardly been here for a week and already my dad says we have to move!'

'Wait,' Jack said. 'I'll be right out.' He hastily pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxer shorts before hurrying to meet Ralph outside. The night wind bit into his bare chest as he made his way to the side of the house, where Ralph was waiting. Upon seeing the distressed teen, he ran over and embraced Ralph tightly.

'Oh, Jack, I don't want to leave.'

'Shh, love . . . When did your dad say you had to go?'

'Three days! That's hardly even enough time to pack!'

'And why do you have to go?'

'Because the deal he was working on just crashed and he needs to do some damage control in France. He doesn't want to leave mom and I behind, so we have to go, too!' Ralph cried out hysterically.

'Shh . . .' Jack soothed, gently brushing his lover's hair. 'Shh . . . Things will work out, you'll see.'

'How can they work out if we're not together?' Ralph asked. 'My dad is just being selfish. He doesn't care about how we feel about moving all the time.'

'But he cares a great deal _for_ you,' Jack pointed out. 'Otherwise he would just leave you behind. Maybe he's just not very good at showing it.'

'I don't care, Jack. I don't want to go!' Ralph said tearfully.

'Listen, Ralph, listen to me!' Jack said harshly, startling the other out of his tears. 'No matter how much distance there is between us or how much time passes, I'll wait for you. I love you, Ralph, and I'll always wait for you.'

'You're good to me, Jack, but I don't want to make you do this.'

'You're not "making" me do anything. I volunteered to.'

'But won't it depress you?'

'Of course, but I would be more depressed if you don't return.' He placed a chaste kiss on Ralph lips. 'Just promise me you'll return, Ralph. Promise me!'

'I . . . I promise.'

'But the promise alone isn't good enough, Ralph.'

'It . . . It isn't?'

'You have to _mean_ what you say. If you love me, you'll _mean_ your promise. Despite what your father, your mother, or anyone else says, you _will_ come back to me, right?' The barest hint of a plea was evident in Jack's tone.

'I promise,' Ralph tearfully responded as he tightened his hold on his lover. 'I promise.'

'Good.' Tears were now forming in Jack's eyes and he vainly tried to fight them. 'You can't _not_ leave, Ralph. Your parents would be devastated if you were left behind.'

'But what about you?'

'Don't worry about me. I've had hardships before, and I'll get through them this time like I always have. We'll just try to make the most of our time together as if is, okay?'

'Okay.'

-

Their last few days together passed all too quickly, and the time soon came for Ralph to leave. He piled the rest of his possessions in their car and gazed hopefully down the street.

'Are you waiting for someone, dear?' his mother asked from the front seat.

'I don't know,' he replied, shrugging. He realized that Jack had never promised to see him off, but he expected _something_, even a note or something would do. 'I guess . . . I guess we can just go.' He climbed into the car and pulled the door close.

'Oh dear,' she said suddenly. 'I forgot something inside.' Then she rushed back into the house before her husband locked the door for good.

Just then, Ralph saw Jack running towards him, a small box in his hand.

'Ralph!' he called. 'Wait up!'

To Ralph, it seemed like he was torn between sadness and excitement. Said teen came up with him and breathlessly said, 'Sorry if I'm late, but my mother had to talk to me. She and my dad are getting a divorce! Great, huh?'

'That's wonderful!' Ralph said. 'I'm so happy for you.'

Jack smiled and placed the box in Ralph's hand.

'Here, this is for you. Go on—open it.'

With trembling hands, Ralph ripped the paper off the box and opened the lid. Inside lay a simple silver ring, much too small for his finger. Upon closer inspection, however, one would notice a fine inscription written on its inside, away from prying eyes.

'_For Ralph_,' Ralph read.

'Yes, for you,' Jack said. 'You said you gave me everything, Ralph, so now I wanted to give you something in return. I've had that ring since before I can remember. I guess it's from when I was a baby or something. It's like a symbol of who I am and everything I've been through. It's a symbol of me! I just got it inscribed last night . . . for you.'

'You're giving it to me?'

'I'm giving it to you,' Jack confirmed.

'Do you think I'm attractive?' Ralph questioned playfully.

'No, I think you're beautiful,' Jack recited.

'Am I in your heart?'

'No, you _are_ my heart.'

'Would you cry if I walked away forever?'

'No, I would die!'

'And do you love me?'

'No, I lo—' Jack stopped in mid-sentence. 'Er . . . Yes, I love you,' he finally replied.

'Do you promise to always treat me with the respect I deserve?'

'Yes.'

'Will you love and support me in all aspects of my life?'

'Yes.'

'Will you wait for me to return?' Ralph asked hopefully, vaguely thinking that it sounded like they were taking matrimonial vows.

'Always.'

They shared a deep kiss before hastily jumping apart when Ralph's mother returned.

'Oh, Jack, dear, it's so good to see you again!' she said, pulling him into a one-armed hug. 'I'm just sorry that we didn't get to see more of you before we have to leave.'

'Well, maybe next time, Mrs. M,' he said awkwardly, swiping at the tears on his face.

'Here. Let me give you our new address. Maybe you can write to us sometime.'

'I would be glad to,' Jack replied. He patiently waited for her to write the address down on a scrap piece of paper, which she handed to him but a moment later.

'I hope we'll hear from you soon!'

Jack smiled and pocketed the slip of paper.

'Goodbye, Ralph,' Jack said, waving casually over his shoulder as he turned to leave. 'I'll write to you soon.'

'Bye, Jack,' Ralph called back, crystal tears tumbling from his eyes.

"I'll miss you," he thought sadly, but he did not voice the words aloud. He didn't want his mother to know any more than she had to.

What he didn't know was that she already did.

-

It wasn't until Jack was halfway down the street before he thought to read his lover's new address. In Mrs. Macpherson's neat, cursive writing, the note said:

_-_

_Write to us soon!_

_4 Privet Drive_(1)

-

'Blah, blah,' Jack muttered under his breath. '_Little Whinging _. . . blah . . . _Surrey_. . .' Suddenly, something at the bottom caught his eye.

-

_P.S. . . ._

_-_

'"P.S."? Wasn't she only supposed to be giving me an address?' Jack asked himself, but there was no mistaking it.

-

_P.S. Don't break my son's heart._

-

Did that mean she knew? And if she did, why didn't she ever say anything about it?

'What does it matter?' Jack inquired of no one in particular. 'I will never break Ralph's heart so long as there is still air in my lungs and love in my heart.' Sealing his promise with a smile, he slipped the note back into his pocket.

"I love him," he thought, casually kicking a pebble away. "I always will. Nothing can ever come between us."

And it was at that moment in time that a "nightmare" became a dream . . .

-

(1) Mini-Disclaimer: Hehe, this is Harry Potter's address . . . My sister lost our copy of the book and I don't remember the rest. Sorry!


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